


Wars and Rumors of Wars

by 50shadesofsubtext



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - World War II, F/F, F/M, How Do I Tag, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Marines Corps, Military Training, This is a long one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-11-14 02:49:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 30,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11198916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/50shadesofsubtext/pseuds/50shadesofsubtext
Summary: In 1939, Dean left his family and girlfriend to join the military, but his life turned upside down when he met Cas. At home, his brothers found their own ways to live in the brave new world.





	1. Lawrence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 7/22/17

 

_Belleau Wood, Marne River, France_

_June 27, 1918_

 

_My Dearest Mary,_

_We just finished fighting a long battle. My men fought bravely, but we lost many. Once the fighting ended, I collapsed from fatigue and injury (nothing I won’t heal from), but the first thing I thought of upon waking was you. Mail finally came today, and I received your letter. All the men are excited for us. I only hope I can make it back to you before he comes. (Forgive me for thinking it will be a boy, you know I would be just as happy with a girl.)_

_I hope this child never sees a war like this. I hope he never fights like this or defends his friends like this or loses people like this. I hope he grows up in a peaceful world, where humans act like humans and not monsters. A world where he is loved, and where he loves others. I want him to have someone like you, that he cares about more than anything else in the world._

_I am so sorry I won’t be there to see your round belly or hold your hair back when you get sick. I know there will be more than just this first baby though, and I promise to never leave your side again. I’ll even carry the next one for you._

_Until we meet again,_

_John_

 

**October 1, 1938**

 

Sam and Dean were trying to slip out the front door when Dean heard his father’s voice behind them. “Where are you going, boys?”

 

“Outside to get a little air,” Dean said.

 

“Before you’ve done the dishes?”

 

Dean cracked his face into a smart-aleck grin. “Well, you see Dad, I thought that it’d be a good idea to go with Sammy on his run today. If Hitler decides to take over America after he finishes Europe, I'll be ready.”

 

His father sighed, and Dean admired the strength it took to keep himself from rolling his eyes. There was enough truth and fear behind the statement to keep John from laughing outright. Last month, Nazis attacked Jewish and homes, synagogues, and businesses in Germany. Everything was set on fire.

 

“You’ll go out when I say you can go out. And you can go out after you wash the dishes and clean the kitchen.”

 

Sam looked ready to put on his puppy dog eyes, but Dean grabbed his arm, “Yes, sir!” he mock saluted and pulled his brother into the kitchen.

 

When the door closed behind them, Sam protested. “You didn’t even put up a fight, Dean. It’s Saturday! We were gonna go see that Clark Gable movie at the Grenada. Besides, this mess is all Dad’s anyway. Look—” Sam swept his arm in the direction of the empty beer and liquor bottles on the counter, “—all these are his—”

 

“A couple of those are mine,” Dean cut him off. “Some things aren't worth arguing about. He’ll still let us go out. If you’d help me clean instead of complaining, we’d go faster. Hell, he might even let us take the car.”

 

Sam was only fifteen, and Dean knew, or at least hoped, that he would grow out of his resentment against their father. John wasn't the father of the year or anything, but he'd seen some shit he never recovered from. Sam hated when Dean went along with John, but it wasn’t going to hurt anyone to make life easier.

 

As Dean promised, it didn’t take long to clean with them both helping, and John did let them take the car. She was still new, a black, 6-cylinder 1937 Chevrolet Master Town Sedan, and Dean treated her like his child.

 

They left in plenty of time to make it to the Granada. Sam opened his mouth to protest when Dean turned the car onto Lisa's street, but one look from his big brother snapped his jaw closed.

 

He turned off the car outside the brick house and told Sam to jump in the back while he went to get her. He walked to the front door and knocked twice before Lisa’s father opened the door. He put on his biggest smile, the one he used to sweet talk people. “Mr. Braeden, I was hoping to take Lisa to the theater today.”

 

Benjamin Braeden eyed him. He’d always thought Dean was trouble but hadn’t forbidden Lisa from seeing him. “Just the two of you?”

 

“No sir,” he pointed to the car where Sam waved from the backseat, “my brother is with me.” He may have thought Dean was trouble, but he thought Sam hung the moon. Everyone did. They both smiled at Sam and he relented.

 

“Alright, son. Let me get her for you,” he pointed a finger at Dean, “but I want her home by 9. No excuses.”

 

“Thank you, sir.” Dean smiled as Mr. Braeden retreated into the house. Dean whistled to himself as he waited, and Lisa stepped out of the house with her jacket slung over her shoulders and her dark hair curled down her back. Dean led her to the passenger side of the car, opening and closing the door for her. As they pulled away from the curb, she scooted closer to him, their legs brushing against each other.

 

“Hi Lisa,” Sam said from the back.

 

She turned and smiled at Sam as her hand found its way to Dean’s thigh, out of Sam’s view. “Hey Sam, how are your classes this year?”

 

They went to the same high school, but Lisa was a senior and Sam was only a sophomore. It was a small school, but they only caught up when they were around Dean. “I don't have time to read a book for fun anymore. Everything I read is for homework.”

 

“You're such a twit, Sammy,” Dean laughed.

 

Lisa play-slapped his arm. “Be nice to him. Just because you were a scrub though school doesn’t mean everyone else should be.” She turned back to Sam. “Don’t pay him no mind, kiddo. He tells me all the time how proud he is of you.”

 

Lisa’s hand had ridden all the way up Dean’s thigh by the time they pulled in front of the theater. Dean grabbed it and pulled her out through the driver’s side door while Sam jumped over the front seat and slid out the passenger side. Dean bought them all tickets and they sat in the back of the theater. By the time Clark Gable followed Myrna Loy to South America, Dean and Lisa were too busy to pay attention to the movie. By the time the lights turned back on, they had forgotten there was a film playing at all.

 

Sam dragged them out of the theater with the promise of food, and they walked the few blocks up to Round Corner Pharmacy for sandwiches. Lisa pulled her chair close while they ate, but once his food and soda were in front of him, all other thoughts disappeared.

 

He held Lisa’s hand as they walked back to the car and twirled her in circles. Sam rolled his eyes when Dean whirled her to his chest to kiss her, then spun her out before their lips made contact.

 

Lisa sat close to Dean again. She made sure to have a leg on each side of the gear shift so every time he switched gears, he had to reach between her legs. She slid back to the passenger side when they reached her house, and Dean again went around to open the door for her. They held hands as they walked to the front door, but Dean resisted kissing her good night in fear of what her father might say.

 

The drive back to their house was quiet, and Dean turned on the radio to Fred Astaire singing “The Way You Look Tonight.” Dean sang with the chorus.

 

Sam let the song finish before speaking up. “Are you in love with Lisa, Dean?”

 

Dean stopped singing and flashed a look over to his brother. “What?”

 

“Are you in love with her?”

 

“Where is this coming from kiddo?”

 

“She’s graduating in the spring. Are you going to marry her? Settle down with her?”

 

Dean paused for a minute before joking, “You trying to get rid of me, Sammy?” Sam didn’t laugh and Dean sighed, “I don’t know. She’s great, you see, but I haven't even told her that I love her. And I don’t think I’m ready to settle down. It isn’t all about feelings and emotions Sam.”

 

“Yeah, I know. But it isn’t all about sex either. You aren’t leading her on, are you? Are you sure you know what you want?”

 

Dean had to catch his thoughts. “I mean, I like working at the garage, even if working for Dad isn’t ideal.” He paused and considered whether to tell Sam before he continued, voice softer. “I’ve been thinking about joining the service. The Marine Corps, like Dad.”

 

Sam’s eyes went huge. “Are you kidding me! You are so ready to be like Dad that you’d join the service? What happens if we start fighting Hitler? You’d get yourself killed if another war broke out.”

 

“FDR doesn’t want to go to war. I know Hitler is angling toward Poland, but England and France won’t let him take it.”

 

Sam rolled his eyes. They both heard so much about what was happening overseas that it was pointless to argue about it, so he changed his tactic. “So, what happens to Lisa if you join up? Would you make her wait for you if you aren’t even sure how you feel?”

 

Dean sighed. “Why are we even talking about this. It’s none of your business what I do with my life.”

 

“I care about you. And I’m worried that you’ll be stuck in Lawrence working at the garage forever. You’re smart Dean, you could be doing more.”

 

“Marines would get me out of Lawrence,” he said. “And the garage is a good job. We’re lucky Dad managed to stay open through the depression, that it’s even there to work at.”

 

Sam looked down, guilt playing on his face. “I know Dean, but just think about it.”

 

Dean cut the engine and looked at his brother. “I know you worry about me, but it’s my job to look out for you, not the other way around, okay?”

 

Sam sighed resigned. “Yeah, I get it. I’m here to talk when you want.”

 

Dean wrapped an arm around his little brother’s shoulders and they walked to the front door. Sam was getting taller, but Dean could still reach a fist up to give him a nuggie as they walked up to the front door. Sam pushed away yelling and Dean followed him inside.

 

**April 21, 1939**

 

It was one of those April days when spring tries its hardest to push winter aside. The sun was bright and the snow was already melting, small rivers running through the grass and down the gutters of the streets. It was Friday, the one day a week John let Dean go home early. He knew it was only to meet Sam, but he was grateful anyway. He opened the door to the phone ringing on the hook. He ran to grab it but didn’t make it before the ringing stopped. He shrugged and moved to go upstairs to change when it rang again.

 

“Hello?”

 

A small voice answered, “I’m looking for John Winchester.”

“He’s not in right now, can I take a message?”

 

“Uh, no, does he have a number I can reach him at?”

 

Dean gave the garage’s number and went upstairs to change. He was part-way through pulling his shirt over his head when the phone rang again. He ran back downstairs to answer it.

 

“Son, grab a few days clothes for you and Sam. I need you back at the garage.”

 

The line was silent before he could ask why.

 

He heard his father’s voice ringing from the front of the garage and knew he was giving orders to the men.

 

“We going somewhere, Dad?”

 

“Where’s Sam?”

 

He didn’t want a lecture about his responsibility to keep track of Sam, so he gave his best guess, “The pharmacy.”

 

Sam and Amy sat at the lunch counter when he walked in. He praised every god he knew that he was right.  

 

“Sammy,” he called as he walked to them. “Something came up, we gotta go.”

 

Sam looked up at him confused. “Is everything okay?”

 

“Dad’ll explain, come on.”

 

Sam jumped up and pulled change from his pocket. “I’ll see you later,” he called over his shoulder.

 

Dean let him crawl into the back before getting in.

 

“What’s going on? Are we going somewhere?”

 

Dean looked at John, expecting an answer as well and John turned to face them.

 

“There is something you boys need to know.” He took a deep breath, “After your mom died, I was messed up. I needed a break—from everything—and so I left you two with the neighbor and went to visit a buddy from my old platoon up in Minnesota.”

 

It wasn’t big news. Dean remembered his father’s drunken rages from when he was little.

 

“I met a girl there. Kate Milligan. We had a fun week together, and then I packed up and came back to you boys. I never thought I would hear from her again.”

 

Dean felt his stomach boil. He went and got laid right after mom died?  

 

“But you did, didn’t you?” Sam asked from behind him

 

“She called a few years ago and said I had a son who wanted to meet me, wanted to know if I'd meet him.”

 

The boys stared at him, slack-jawed in awe. Dean muttered, “You’re jerking our chain, right?” John looked down at his hands. “Oh, for the love of—”

 

“—Why are you telling us now Dad? What happened?”

 

He saw tears welling in his father’s eyes, and he choked out, “They found her body this morning.”

 

Dean jerked his head and stared out the window. “That’s just great.”

 

Sam looked down. “And the kid?”

 

“Adam. He’s all alone up there.”

 

“Okay. So, let’s go get him.”

 

Adam. Some kid thought he could just have their dad? No. That kid never had to deal with John drunk and destroying the house or yelling at them in the middle of the night. That kid doesn’t get to call John his dad.

 

He was upset he fell asleep against the window. By the time he woke up, it was dark outside.

 

“We here?”

 

Sam climbed into the front seat with his brother. “Yeah, Dad’s inside with Adam.”

 

“I can’t believe this. It’s like Dad cheated on Mom.”

 

“Is that what you’re so mad about, Dean? Does it surprise you that he slept with another woman after Mom? He’s a man, he had needs. And you know what he was like after Mom died better than I do.”

 

Dean did know, and that was part of his problem. He and Sam both knew, and the kid didn’t. He never would.

 

“Still. And then he hid the kid from us.”

 

“Yeah, but now we can meet him. There is no need to get upset about something you can’t change.”

 

Dean rolled his eyes, and they sat in silence. It wasn’t much longer before John opened the front door and waved for them to come inside.

 

Dean watched Sam looking at the pictures of their dad on the mantle. Was Sam wondering if John could actually be that man, the dad they both needed so long ago like Adam seemed to get.

 

“Sam, Dean,” John said, “This is Adam. Adam, Sam and Dean.”

 

They nodded and shook hands, then stood in silence.

 

The kid cleared his throat. “Well, I bet you’re tired. The spare room’s got a big enough bed for two of you,” he looked at the brothers, “I figured you would stay in Mom’s room,” he added to John.

 

John almost looked ashamed. It was a new look on him. “Thanks, but only if you’re sure. I’m fine sleeping on the couch.”

 

“It’s fine. She’s gone, right? The bed might as well get used. Not like you’ve never slept there before.”

 

They made their way up the narrow stairs, and Adam pointed them into a room on the right. “Night,” Sam said before closing the door behind them. They stripped to their underwear before crashing on either side of the large bed, asleep before their heads hit the pillows.

 

It took a few days to get everything settled with the kid.

 

Adam’s neighbors were taking care of him before they showed up and they had to make a few trips to the police station to get everything settled with guardianship. The funeral was awful, Dean didn’t know what to do and stayed in the trying not to talk to anyone. Sam kept trying to comfort Adam who wanted nothing to do with him and finally he took pity and pulled Sam away.

 

Adam didn’t take much with him. Dean understood though. When his mom died everything in the house just reminded him of her. He and John worked with the neighbor, Mr. Luking, to sell the house and they agreed to put the money in a college fund for Adam.

 

At least someone in the family would get an option to go to college because there was no way Sam or Dean would ever have the money to go.

 

When it was time to leave, Adam gave the neighbor’s daughter, Denise, a hug and promised to write her. Wasn’t that just adorable? Sam kept trying to get Adam to talk about his feelings on the ride back to Kansas, but Dean admired the kid’s sass.

 

“How you holding up?” Sam asked for the millionth time.

 

“How do you think I’m holding up, big brother?” His voice was dripping with sarcasm, and Sam exhaled, his voice going soft.

 

“I know how hard it is to lose a parent. To lose your mom. You must be feeling awful.”

 

“Thanks for the insight, Sherlock.”

 

Dean pulled Sam off Adam’s trail for a while just to give the poor kid a break, and soon he was asleep against the back window.

 

He was impressed by Adam. The kid had enough snark and sass to fit in well. Dean hadn’t wanted to like him, but Adam was too damn likable.

 

John didn’t say a word the entire trip back. Dean was too used to John checking out when things got rough. He didn’t try focusing his father, breaking him out of his trance. He had too many memories of failing when he was younger.    

 

The trip wasn’t too long, but with Adam asleep and John silent, the tension in the car grew. He knew Sam wanted to talk about Adam, but he wasn’t ready. He knew it was irrational, but he felt like John had betrayed them. Betrayed his mom. No amount of Sammy telling him that it wasn’t true could make him get over the pit in his stomach.

 

Sam didn’t know their mom. He’d had dreams of marrying her when he was little. She had the voice of an angel when she sang, and she gave the best hugs, the kind that made him feel loved and warm and safe. But she was gone, and Sam never knew how amazing she was.

 

But John tainted her memory with Adam. And he hated that he liked the kid.

 

Dean smiled when he saw the light-green of their house. It was big enough that Adam would get his own room without having to share and he hoped it would give him room to adjust. It was a bare bones house with no pictures or decorations and the flowers had all died with years of abuse after Mary’s death. John had bought the house after he returned from the Great War and after the stock market crashed and their mom died, this and the garage were all they had left.

 

Sam followed Adam through the house like a puppy that just found a new toy. He jumped through the house showing Adam the kitchen and backyard.

 

Dean followed them up the stairs. They passed their father’s door and then his.

 

“You don’t get to come in here,” Dean warned him.

 

Adam just looked down and nodded. He wondered if he was being too hard on the kid and felt bad when he saw the misty eyes look back at him. He held back as Sam, oblivious to the oncoming tears, pranced down to the end of the hall to the last two rooms.

 

Dean was grateful the air in the old room didn’t smell to stale or musty. He pulled Sam away to give Adam a minute to adjust, and they heard the sobs as they retreated down the hallway Sam stopped and looked up at Dean’s eyes questioning if they should turn back, but Dean pulled him down the stairs and away from the crying.

 

**May 2, 1939**

 

Summer was sneaking up, and the temperature kept getting hotter the closer it got. Dean worked up a sweat under the hood of a ford before he finally called it quits for the day, and he took Adam with him to get ready for the night.

 

He wanted to surprise Sam with dinner for his birthday. He could cook okay from years of making sure Sam ate when their dad was checked out, but he was best with the grill. He got chicken from the butcher and corn from the market. He decided to get sugar and flour to make a cake for an extra cake. Sugar wasn’t rationed, but there were rumors it would be one of the first things rationed if they were to go to war, so he bought plenty. Even if none of them were sweet tooths, it was nice to have it in case.

 

He went back to the garage to pick up his dad before going home. John was lucky to own a business after the stock market crash, and he worked overtime to keep it going. He let Dean go early, but only to watch over Sam and now Adam. Since there were only a few weeks left of school, John decided to let Adam start next year and give him time to adjust. Dean wished he got that much after his mom died.

 

He had grown close to Adam in their time together at the garage. Dean taught him what he was doing with every car he worked on, and under the snark and nonchalance, Adam was a fast learner. With their time together, he was starting to open up. They even had inside jokes.

 

When Dean pulled out the grill and set up the food in the back yard, he set Adam down the road to Mr. Sims’ house to get some of his home brew. They still didn’t have a brewery in town, but Bucky made a name for himself in the neighborhood during prohibition and was one of the wealthiest men in town from all the business. The police were easily bribed to look the other way when it came to the moonshine he made in the back shed, but Dean liked the home-brewed beer the best. He might even let Sam some for his birthday.

 

Dean put the cake in the oven and started on his brew when Sam made it home from school. Dean looked up to see him smile from the doorway. “Happy birthday, little brother!” John and Adam added a chorus of happy birthdays behind him.

 

“Thank you, guys,” he murmured, blushing.

 

“Your cake is in the oven, dinner should be ready soon. Adam even cut up stuff for a salad, just because you like that junk,” Dean added the last part with a sour face.

 

“Thanks, Adam, I appreciate that.”

 

“Yeah, well don’t expect that to be a regular thing, that’s all I got you for your birthday.”

 

Dean assured Adam again while they were shopping that he didn’t need to get Sam anything for his birthday. Even though Adam had a relationship with Dean, he hadn’t found his place with Sam yet, and Dean knew his brothers both wanted to change that.

 

Sam pointed to his book bag. “I’m gonna drop this stuff off upstairs, I’ll be right back.”

 

Dean passed the tongs to Adam and told him to keep a good eye on the chicken, and followed him up the stairs. Once they were in the safety of Sam’s room, Dean asked, “So, did you do it?”

 

Sam let a big grin spread across his face, and Dean gave him a hug, pounding his back with his fist. “Good for you little brother. I knew she would say yes.” Sam came to him the night before wondering how to ask Amy out. They’d been inseparable since they started first grade together, so Dean just told him that it was about time. And yet, he spent the day worrying about how awkward Sam could get when he was flustered and wondered if he shouldn’t have given him step-by-step instructions and a script.

 

“We’re gonna have a picnic and watch a movie at the Granada,” Sam said with a smile.

 

“You gonna tell dad?”

 

“Not yet.”

 

“That’s for the best. You need money?”

 

“I’m alright, thanks.”

 

“Alright, well I got to go make sure that little twerp downstairs doesn’t burn dinner. I’m proud of you Sammy.”

 

“Thanks, Dean.”

 

He wiped the smile off his face when he saw John still drinking downstairs and pulled the chicken and corn off the grill. They ate while the game was getting ready on the radio, Yanks vs. Tigers, Dean pulled the cake out of the oven and let it cool while they settled in the living room. Dean wasn’t a big baseball fan, but Sam and John both loved it and it was supposed to be a good game Dean was surprised, however, when  Ty Tyson, the radio announcer, told them that Gehrig pulled himself out of the game and ended his streak.

 

The four men sat silent for a minute before Sam asked, “How many games has he played?”

 

“He started in 1925. That’s got to be around 2,000.”

 

“DiMaggio’s out too. Are the Yanks gonna win this one?”

 

John laughed, “Even without Gehrig and DiMaggio, Tigers don't stand a chance.” He was right. In under 2 ½ hours, Yankees won 22-2.

 

They didn’t bother frosting the cake, and everyone had a large slice before heading to bed. As they retreated up the stairs, John stopped outside his door to give Sam a hug. Dean almost took a double take. He’d only seen that a couple times since the accident

 

The three boys walked down to Sam’s room. Dean and Sam set next to each other on the bed, and Adam pulled up the desk chair.

 

“Did you have a good birthday, Sammy?” Dean asked him.

 

Before he could answer, Adam added, “Yeah, Sammy, did you?” He stressed the nickname, and Dean smiled because He knew just how much Sam hated the nickname.

 

“It’s Sam, and yeah, I did.”

 

“Amy agreed to go out with him,” Dean informed Adam. “Only, don’t tell Dad yet.”

 

“Never,” Adam promised. “I like Amy, she’ll be good for you. Get you to loosen up a bit.” Adam only met her a couple times when they went to the pharmacy to get sodas together.

 

“I am plenty loose, thank you. But I am pretty excited.”

 

Dean smiled, “Do you need me and Adam set behind you in the theater and make sure the dame doesn’t take advantage of you? I wouldn’t want you pop your cherry before you're ready.”

 

Sam blushed crimson. “You’re a real fuck.”

 

His smile widened. “Or I could bring Lisa instead and give you some pointers.”

 

Even Adam made a bad face at that. “Gross Dean!”

 

“Yeah, get off my bed, sicko!” Sam swatted at his arm.

 

Dean laughed and laid back. “I’m teasin’. You know I’m real proud of you Sammy.”

 

“Yeah, I know Dean.”

 

They sat in silence for a minute before Dean asked, “How about you Adam? See any broads you want to chase after?”

 

He looked down, and the side of his mouth faced down in a frown, “Naw, I’m still trying to get my feet under me. I write Denise every week though.”

 

“Were you two going together?” Sam asked.

 

“We were just friends. But I miss her. I’m not that great at making friends.”

 

“You know you’re always welcome with us, right?”

 

“Yeah, I know.” A small smile graced his lips before he continued, “But you guys and your friends are all older. It’s fine though, I’ll meet people in the fall.”

 

“You bet you will,” Dean assured him.

 

“Anyway, it’s late, I should get to bed,” Adam said before standing and pushing the chair in.

 

“Night,” they said in unison. When Adam’s door closed behind him, Dean turned to Sam, “He’s lonely. You have friends with younger siblings, right?”

 

“Yeah, a few. We could have a get-together. Go to the park or something.” Dean nodded his approval.

 

“I guess I should get to bed too. Night, Sammy.”

 

“Night, Dean.”

 

As he walked back down the hallway to his room, Dean thought about his youngest brother. Dean had no doubt he would make plenty of friends when he started school, but it wouldn’t really matter if he did or not. Really, friends were unnecessary when he had brothers. When he had a family.

 

And maybe somewhere deep inside, Dean was a little jealous. Why should Adam get to have friends when he and Sam didn’t. Dean had Lisa, Sam had Amy, and that was it. They didn’t get to come into a new town where everyone knew who they were and take over the school. They didn’t get to start over with their past. Dean took care of Sam and worked at the garage. What made Adam so special that he got to have a real life when he didn’t.

 

He hated himself for thinking it. But the thought didn’t go away.

 

**May 27, 1939**

 

As Lisa’s graduation rolled around, her parents decided to throw a party to celebrate, not only her graduation but also her accomplishments in track.  She placed at the state level in the four-forty, and Dean was proud that she was moving on to the next part of her life.

 

As she talked to her parent’s friends, Dean heard her repeat over and over, “I’m going nursing school at Kansas State in the fall.” He figured people would spread the message around themselves after the first few answers.

 

Sam and Amy were talking with a group of friends and they were trying to include Adam, which Dean was happy to see. He’d grown to loved the kid and felt the same overbearing sense of protection with Adam as he did with Sam.

 

He sat and ate his hamburger when one of Lisa’s uncles came and sat down next to him. She wasn’t close with her extended family, and after a few minutes in a conversation with the uncle, he was beginning to see why.

 

“I’m sorry,” Dean told him after minutes of listening how great Hitler was, “you can’t convince me that Hitler is good for Europe.”

 

“Son, he brought jobs back to a poor country, he brought Germany together under a united cause.”

 

“That purpose is removing Jews from Europe.”

 

“When people don’t assimilate into a country, and they keep their old ways, it is dangerous to the economy. Jewish banks and businesses only do businesses with Jewish people, and they were content to prosper in their own community and let the rest of Germany suffer.”

 

“You have to know that isn’t true. Diversity drives ingenuity. And Nazis banned Jews from German businesses and banks, they have to buy from other Jews. That doesn’t mean they don’t welcome other business, but they are forced to resource their own community.”

 

“Son, you are young. Don’t presume to know how the world works at 20. After that pact the other day, they have the power of Italy with them. It won’t be long before they spread through Europe and drive out all the dirty Jews.”

 

Dean was ready to pound the guy, but Lisa came and pulled him away in time. It was only for her that he restrained himself.

 

“Your family is a real piece of work, Lis.”

 

“Well, now you know why I’m not that close to them.”

 

“I’m gonna head out and get Sam and Adam home. You want to go on a drive later? I’ll get the car from my Dad again.”

 

She smiled, “That sounds like fun, but you don’t have to leave yet. I can keep my family away for a while.”

 

“That’s alright, I got to head out anyway. I’ll see you after dinner?”

 

“Sounds good.” They hugged goodbye, and Dean pressed a quick peck to her lips before rounding up his brothers.

 

“Can Amy come over for a while, Dean?” Sam asked.

 

“I suppose,” Dean smiled, “so long as you keep your door open.”

 

Sam groaned, “Dean, we’re just going to read.”

 

“Is that what you kids call it these days?” he smiled back. He raised his eyebrows when Sam and Amy both blushed. “I was teasing, yeesh.”

 

They walked to the car and Dean drove them home. He wasn’t hungry again yet, but he knew that soon enough John would be home from work and the kids would be ready to eat. He made noodles and put together pasta using canned tomatoes. He finished rolling and cutting the dough as his Dad walked in the door, and cooked them as his father walked upstairs. He cut an Italian loaf in half before spreading garlic butter on the inside and putting it in the oven to toast.

 

He called up the stairs for Adam and Sam to set the table and made Sam make his own salad since he was the only that would eat it.

 

Sam brought down his desk chair for Amy to set at and they squished onto one side of the table. It was almost necessary for Sam’s arm to drape over Amy’s shoulders as they ate for the lack of space.

 

John said a blessing over the food before they dug in. The radio played in the living room as they ate. NBC broadcast Mr. District Attorney from the speakers. They all lamented the loss of Americans All, Immigrants All on CBS, but Sam liked the new show. He said it made him want to be a lawyer. Dean made Adam do the dishes after dinner while John settled on the couch to read the newspaper and Sam took Amy home.

 

He walked to John. “Hey Dad, is it okay if I borrow the car again for an hour or two? I’m gonna take Lisa for a drive.”

 

He grunted and tossed the keys. “Don’t get her pregnant,” John muttered under his breath.

 

Dean drove out to Clinton Lake and parked the car. They got out and sat in the grass, Dean leaning back against the front tire, Lisa in his arms. “It is beautiful out here,” she said.

 

“Yeah, almost as beautiful as you.”

 

She laughed and hit his arm where it wrapped around her. “You’re such a sap.”

 

He smiled, and they sat for a while, watch the sky grow darker. They had missed the sunset, but it was still light enough to see the lake spread out in front of them.

 

“You know,” she spoke up, “my dad thought you were going to bring me out here to propose.”

 

Dean stilled, “Is that something you want?”

 

She smiled and turned to him. “Dean, you know I love you,” he nodded before she continued, “but I am not ready to get married. And honestly, I think you feel the same way. We love each other, but we aren’t in love with each other.”

 

Dean felt a weight lift from his chest at hearing the truth. He let a small, sad smile cross his lips. “Yeah, I know. God, even Sammy tried to tell me that.”

 

“Dean, you’ll always have a place in my heart. But I don’t want to marry you,” she laughed, “unless of course, we are forty and lonely as hell because no one else can put up with us.”

 

Dean smiled, “Why Lisa, I’m flattered to be your backup plan.” She hit his arm again.

 

“The world is a crazy place right now, Dean, there’s no telling what will happen to us. Let’s just agree to be there when we need each other, okay?”

 

“Okay.”

 

They settled back against the car and watched the first few stars come out before Dean drove her back into town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was having trouble with a scene and decided to come back and rewrite this instead. Because this is Dean's POV, there are some things that the other characters experienced that I cut out, but there are also a few things I added in! I will work with the next section next, and it should take me right up to the scene that has me stuck. Hopefully being in Dean's head will break up my rut a little. 
> 
> Thanks for hanging in there!


	2. San Diego

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long chapter and it's got tons of fluffy and slightly angsty goodness. I wanted to break it into two different chapters, but I wasn't sure where to put the break... oh well. Enjoy!

**August 26, 1939**

 

Sam worked most of the summer at the garage with his family, but when it was time for school to start again, they all agreed it was time for a shopping trip for new school clothes. Since Sam couldn’t wear the garage jumpers to school, Dean volunteered to take Sam and Adam into Topeka for new clothes. Their dad let them take the Chevrolet.

 

“You guys ready for school?” he asked. Sam was starting his junior year of high school, and Adam was starting 8th grade.

 

Sam smiled wide in the front seat. “I have a girlfriend, I have perfect grades, and I’m finally tall enough to beat up the jerks at school.”

 

Adam looked less happy in the rearview mirror. The kid missed his old friends, and even though he met some people, Dean knew it wouldn’t be the same.

 

He turned on the radio, and they listened to the BBC broadcast news from England. The last few days had been a mess in Europe. Germany was getting ready to attack Poland, and everyone knew it would officially start the war. Hitler said he wanted Danzig, part of Germany before the Treaty of Versailles, to build an Autobahn and railroad passage through to East Prussia. He didn’t know how Germans felt about Hitler’s demands. News from Germany came from the government, and the few contradicting reports from refugees in Holland and Denmark said any resistance was destroyed. There was no way to be sure if the government quieted everyone in fear, or if people believed that he would stop with the strip of land.

 

America was split as well. Dean heard lots of people in the garage say they thought Hitler was doing the right thing. He supposed that after the depression, people would find it hard to stand against someone creating jobs and trying to unite his people. None of Hitler’s American supporters seemed concerned that people were disappearing. Back in June, a ship with Jewish refugees was turned away from Florida and forced to return to Europe. No one seemed to care.

 

The radio programs said that Germany was moving troops and artillery around the country focusing on Poland. When they attacked, Dean was ready to join the fight. America was too placid in the brewing war, and too many people weren’t worried about the turn in Europe. If he didn’t fight, then who would?

 

As they drove into Topeka, they heard the radio host announced that Britain and Poland agreed to help each other. It looked like when Germany was ready to attack, Britain would be prepared for a counter. When the host said that the Netherlands closed their borders to refugees, Dean got worried. If Jews and others were stuck in Germany, what would happen to them? Would they disappear like the others? Would they be forced to fight for a cause they didn’t believe in?

 

They found few stores on the main drag to check out. Adam didn’t get much seeing as he hadn't hit his growth spurt yet, but Sam got a new wardrobe. Dean refused to let him get any more bush shirts, but they got new high-waisted trousers and a new pair of boots. They got milkshakes and hamburgers and a burger joint before heading back to Lawrence. Dean turned on the radio in the car to “I Get Along Without You Very Well,” the new Hoagy Carmichael song, and sang soft and low with the music. Sam tried to tune him out, but Adam smiled at him from the rearview mirror.

 

During their months at the garage working together, Dean had grown close to Adam. When Sam wanted to talk about feelings or how things were with Amy, or how if Dean knew he wasn’t in love with Lisa she should break up with her because she is a good girl and he was leading her on, Dean found solace with Adam. They could work for hours together on a car and not say a single word.

 

It was hard knowing that he would give them up when he left. It wouldn’t be permanent, and they would still talk, but they all knew it wouldn’t be the same. He would miss Adam growing up, miss being there when Sam decided what to do after graduation. He would miss birthdays and holidays. And even worse, he would leave them with a dad who wouldn’t let them have a life outside of school. Who would put time at the garage more important than homework or time with friends. His brothers would lose the last part of their childhood to become their daddy’s workers. He knew from experience.

 

He hated doing that to them, but it was a  necessary sacrifice to make the world a better place.

 

Sunday, the night before school started, they listened to Churchill say that Britain, France, and Australia declared war on Germany.

 

Adam and Sam both woke up Monday morning before school to listen for news and heard the BBC say that the RAF attacked the German Navy. The war across Europe had officially begun.

 

Dean drove him and Sam to school Wednesday morning and explained that he was going to the Marine recruiting office that day. He watched the tears well in Sam’s eyes and felt them in his own. Just because they knew it was coming didn’t make it hurt any less.

 

“It will let me get some training before we go to the war. I’ll be able to get a good job.”

 

“You’ll get killed, Dean. There is a war starting, and you are going to get killed.”

 

“Hey now,” Dean patted his shoulder, “we don’t know what’s gonna happen. FDR promised neutrality.”

 

Sam’s scoff matched his own. “Yeah, and I promised to do the dishes last night. You know that isn’t going to last.”

 

Dean frowned at them. “Fine then. We’ll go to war. And then I’d get drafted and have no say where I end up, and then I’d die on the front line somewhere in Germany. Or, I can join now and get training. I may never even see fighting, you never know.”

 

He was saying it to make Sam feel better, but he knew Sam would just need time to process what this would mean.

 

He looked back at Adam. “When do you think you’ll have to leave?” he asked.

 

“I’ll probably get a few weeks. I bet I’ll still be here for your birthday,” Dean said with a smile.

 

“Yeah, maybe,” Sam said with a snort, “but not for Thanksgiving or Christmas. Not for a long time.”

 

“I know kiddo.” It hung in the air for a while before Dean looked up at them again. “Hey, I’ll write. Everyday. You’ll get so tired of me that you’ll be glad I left.”

 

“You know that’ll never happen,” Sam half- joked with a small smile on his lips.

 

Adam nodded, “Sam will be too annoyed at me to miss you.”

 

Dean laughed, “Yeah, between you and Dad, Sammy will be begging to join me.”

 

Sam shook his head and looked down. “I can’t believe you’re leaving me.”

 

Dean’s smile faded. “You knew this was coming, kid. I’ll go put a bullet in Hitler and be back before you know it.”

 

“Yeah, Dean, I’m sure you will.” They pulled the up outside of the school, and Dean got out with them. Sam wiped his face when Dean pulled him close.

 

“Hug it out, kid.” Sam wrapped his arms around him before pulling away. Adam got his hug next.

 

Dean stepped away, “Alright, no chick flick moments. I’ll pick you guys up later. Burgers sound good for dinner?”

 

They both nodded to him as he walked back around to the driver’s side. “Hey guys, don’t tell Dad yet. I’ll break the news to him.” They both nodded, and he climbed behind the steering wheel. “I’ll see you guys later.” He waved as he drove away.

 

**September 29, 1939**

 

It took longer than Dean expected to draw up the paperwork and get all the physical exams he needed—including a few trips to the Military Entrance Processing Station in Kansas City—but Dean wasn’t complaining. Sam had taken it hard, as he expected, and he was glad to stick around a little to ease him into it. Adam seemed to accept it well enough. He knew the kid would miss him, but he’d be okay.

 

John took the news as he took about everything, with an almost neutral grunt. Dean wondered how different the situation would be if his mom were still around. John was fantastic when he was younger. He taught him how to play ball and would spoil him silly, but everything changed when Mary died. When John couldn’t deal, Dean had to be a parent and a brother to Sam, and later to Adam. At least he didn't have to change Adam's diapers.

 

He was glad he had been able to stay for the kids birthday. He woke up at the crack of dawn, like he did for every one of Sam’s birthdays, and made a huge breakfast of bacon, eggs, and pancakes. He supposed it would double as a farewell breakfast since he was leaving the next morning.

 

He finished at the shop earlier that week, so with nothing else to do, he went to see Lisa after he dropped of Sam and Adam at school. He knew she would ditch her classes to see him even though she hated missing them.

 

He caught her as she was leaving her dormitory, and asked if she wanted to go for a drive. They'd stayed close since their talk. They both cared about each other, and they had a lot of fun together, but there were no expectations, no goal of marriage. They were best friends, and that was all it needed to be.

 

They drove around for a few hours, talking and catching up. Lisa loved the nursing classes and already made some friends there. “I hope I never have to stitch you up on some far away island in a couple of years.”

 

“I could think of much better things to do on an island with you, Lis,” he joked.

 

“You’re going to be careful, won’t you Dean?”

 

“Of course I will.”

 

He brought her back to her dorm. They kissed goodbye, and he told her he would write. “You’ll wait for me, won’t you?” She held her hand to her chest dramatically, like a heart-struck girl in the movies.

 

“Never.”

 

They laughed and leaned up against the door of the Chevrolet holding each other in one last embrace. They broke apart to kiss, and she pulled away.

 

“Keep in touch, Dean,” she told him as she turned back to the building.

 

“I will.” They waved as he drove away.

 

He made it back to Lawrence in time to pick up his brothers. They were more than capable of walking home, but Dean liked driving with them. He knew they wouldn’t have any time together for a while.

 

“Let’s go eat somewhere. I don’t feel like cooking.”

 

His brothers looked at him with huge eyes. “Okay!” Sam said.

 

Adam asked, “Where do you want to go?”

 

He hummed, “We could go to Round Corner. I know how much you brats like their soda pops.”

 

He watched Sam and Adam grin at each other like they won a jackpot. “Are we gonna pick up Dad?” Sam asked.

 

“We could.” Dean winked, “Or not.”

 

They didn’t say much as they ate. He could tell Sam wanted to talk, but nothing seemed right to say.

 

“You guys want to play poker?” he asked on the way home. “If dad’s not home, I’ll let each of you have a beer.” He didn’t need to bribe them, but he wanted to have a beer with his brothers before he left.

 

“Just one?” Adam asked with a sly grin.

 

"Yes, just one shithead. We have to leave early in the morning.”

 

They made it a few hands before John came in. He took in the sight of them playing and drinking, and pierced his lips, but didn’t say anything. “You want to join in Pops?” Dean asked him.

 

John seemed to consider but told them not to stay up late and trudged up to his bed.

 

They played a few more hands while they sipped their brews and Dean made them go up to their rooms. Dean didn’t stop at his room and followed them into Sam’s room. “You don’t have to finish packing?” Adam asked him.

 

Sam and Dean both laughed, “Dad always made sure we were always prepared for anything,” Dean answered, “I packed last week.”

 

“Oh, I didn’t know you were boy scouts.”

 

“We’re not, but Dad was a Marine. I guess the training started early for me.”

 

Sam was already yawning. They laid together on the bed, Dean shoulder to shoulder with Sam, Adam sideways at the end of the bed. No one said anything, and they laid there in silence, no one wanting to leave yet.

 

Dean only got up when Sam started snoring and got Adam to his bed. As Dean walked back to his room, he saw the light on under his dad’s door. He hesitated before knocked and peeked in when he heard a grunt that sounded like come in.

 

John’s room was bigger than the other rooms, and pictures lined the walls. Pictures from before, back when they had been a family. “Hey son,” John told him. “Come on in.”

 

“What are you doin’ up so late?” At least there were no liquor bottles; there was a good chance John was sober.

 

“Did you know that I found out about you after the Battle of Belleau?” Dean did know, but he kept quiet.

 

“That hell hole was nearly a month of back and forth between the Germans and us. We would gain some ground and lose it the next day. I got shot straight through the arm. They had to clean it every night for a week so it wouldn’t get infected, but it was hard to keep it clean. We were down in those muddy trenches, and everyone had trench foot. It wasn’t severe enough to get pulled off the line, but that place; it’s what I picture hell like.”

 

It wasn’t often his dad talked about the war and Dean was never sure what to say when he did, so he didn’t say anything. John continued, tears in his eyes, “But then I got a letter, said I was gonna be a Dad. And the only thing I could think was that I wanted something better for you. But now, you’re going off to basic, and I’m still not sure what to make out of it. Your life would be so different if Mary were here, this wouldn’t be happening.”

 

“Dad, don’t do that to yourself—”

 

“—Be careful out there,” John cut him off. “Be safe. I love you.”

 

Dean felt the air rush from his lungs. He could remember the last time he heard John said those words. It was the night of the fire as they tucked Sam into his crib.

 

John reached over and patted Dean on the back once before stopping and looking down at his hands.

 

“Right, Dad, well good night, I’ll, uh, see you in the morning,” he murmured on his way, stumbling out the door. He sat on the side of his bed and reached to the picture under his lamp, staring at his mother’s long blond hair and happiest smile. It matched his smile in the picture. He sighed and dropped the picture into his duffle bag before turning off the light.

 

**October 3, 1939**

 

There were a lot of civilians on Dean’s train, but there were also some soldiers, sailors, pilots, and marines. The bar car stayed full of men in uniform, and Dean, who didn’t have a uniform yet, felt a little in awe of the other men. As the train pushed to California, men from the other branches trickled off to catch other trains. By the time they reached San Diego, there were only men from the Navy and Marine Corps, who had bases in the city.

 

He got along well with a guy from Nebraska, Ash Lindberg. They spent the entire trip drinking and playing poker together in the bar car, swindling soldiers out of their money.

 

He had long sandy blond hair that hung almost past his shoulders. Dean kept telling him, “You know they are going to shave it off, it’s the first thing they’ll do.”

 

“Yeah, and it’ll be the last thing they ever do.”

 

Despite his inability to face facts, Ash was a genius. He got kicked out of MIT for fighting and figured there was nothing better to do than join the military. “I’ll show the US a thing or two,” he told Dean every time they got past a third beer. “I’ll teach these officers things they ain’t ever thought of before.”

 

I’m sure you will.”

 

Dean grabbed his bag from the sleeping compartment and followed Ash onto the San Diego platform. They spotted a group of men gathering around a bus and hoped it was the right group.

 

They jogged over with a couple of the other people from the train and waited with everyone else.

 

“What do you think it will be like?” Dean asked Ash

 

“I’m sure they’ll try their hardest to whip us into shape and make us beg for mercy.”

 

Another man turned toward them, “Don’t worry,” he gestured at himself and his friend, “we’ll protect you, boys. Ed Zeddmore and Harry Spangler.”

 

Dean looked at the one who spoke, Zeddmore, and gave him a full once-over before asking, “Is that before or after your next donut?”

 

Ash let out a laugh next to him, and both Zeddmore and Spangler turned red. In truth, the man wasn’t that pudgy, but he didn’t like the smug, know-it-all looks on their faces.

 

Zeddmore and Spangler turned away and made their way over to the other side of the group, stumbling as they went. Dean laughed, “Those idiots are gonna get themselves shot.”

 

They sat behind a guy with dark hair and a lean, runner’s type body. He scrunched up against the window and looked at the other men with trepidation like he didn’t know what to make of them. He looked more scared with each person that passed him.  Dean was ready to lean over the seat and introduce himself when a muscled man in a uniform got on. He wasted no time before yelling at them about how miserable the group of them looked, how he didn’t know if they could make any of them Marines. Dean sighed and settled in for a long ride.

 

They stepped off the bus in order and lined up on rows of yellow footprints. They didn’t step off until every man learned to stand at attention.

 

Dean was in for more screaming as the got their uniforms and toiletries. They moved to a long bench, and one-by-one got hair cuts. When the first guy ended up nearly bald, Ash cursed all the drill sergeants in the building. “You better keep that to yourself, I’d hate to see what they would do to you if they heard that.”

 

“Fuck you.”

 

“They definitely wouldn’t like that.”

 

The guy standing in front of them, the dark-haired man from the bus, turned to look at them. He gave them both a once-over, stopping at Dean’s face. Dean watched his blue eyes graze over his freckled cheeks, nose, and forehead, and take in his light-brown hair before locking eyes.

 

“Castiel Novak,” the man said and stuck out his hand. His voice was deep, and Dean felt something twitch in his gut.

 

He looked down and shook his hand, “Dean Winchester.”

 

Ash introduced himself as well, and Dean was ready to ask him about himself when a drill sergeant came for Castiel. Ash gave Dean a strange look that he couldn’t decipher, but the drill sergeant came for him.

 

There was a lot of waiting for the next few days as they received vaccinations, medical tests, finished paperwork, got their Springfield rifles, and ended with their Initial Strength Test. Despite the waiting, there was almost no sleep, and it had taken a few days to get to the strength test. Dean wasn’t sure about the other guys, but he felt exhausted after a few days with no sleep, and he wasn't sure if he would pass.

 

One by one, they did pull-ups, crunches, and then they all had to run. He wished he'd gone running with Sam more. They were all given the go-ahead to start training, and finally, blissfully, they made it to their bunks—long rows of bunk beds make up with green blankets. Ash and Dean found ones next to each other, both bottom bunks. They sat facing each other, taking off their uniforms for bed. Ash smiled and waved at someone behind Dean, and he turned. Castiel stood at bunk on the other side of Dean.

 

He had his shirt off, and Dean’s eyes found themselves roaming across his chest. The other man cleared his throat, and Dean’s eyes snapped up to his face. “Heya, Cas.”

 

Cas’s eyebrows formed a little crinkle on his forehead when they knotted together in confusion as his head tilted to the side.

 

“Did you give me a nickname?”

 

“Yeah, well, deal with it.”

 

He stood and turned back to Ash to take off his shirt. He saw Ash giving him the same weird look from before as he stripped down and put on the green t-shirt and shorts they had for sleeping. They made it to the end of their bunks for inspection as the drill instructor walked down the line of men fixing their posture before dismissing them. Dean crawled beneath the covers as the lights turned off.

 

**October 6, 1939**

 

Dean dropped onto his bunk. He took off his pack, but he still felt the lines that the weight of the straps had dug into his shoulders on the run. The San Diego air was stifling hot, even this late in the year, and Dean needed a break from the heat and humidity.

 

The floorboards squeaked with footsteps. “Amigo,” Ash told him, “you look exhausted.”

 

“Well, I feel like shit too,” Dean groaned and laid back across the mattress, “I’m never moving again. Forget about a 3-mile run tomorrow morning.”

 

His mattress moved beneath him as Cas sat next to him, close enough for their thighs to press against each other. “Personal space man,” Dean reminded him for the millionth time as he scooted over to make room.

 

Cas looked down, “I apologize.”

 

“What do you bet we have chicken for dinner again tonight?” Ash asked them.

 

Dean’s head poked up at the thought of food. “Right now I don’t care what type of meat they give us as long as I get some protein.”

 

That morning, at four AM—0400—Dean and the others woke up to yelling for reveille. The guy had a brown, wide-brimmed hat, a Drill Instructor. When they lined up for inspections, Dean got his first good look at the man. He had the coldest gray eyes and looked at them like fresh meat that he was ready to tear apart with his teeth. While other drill instructors yelled at their men, Corporal Alistair Rolston spoke in a quiet, icy voice that sent shivers down Dean’s spine, and left the shouting to his assistants, Corporal Azazel Lehne and Corporal Ramiel Trimble—although the men only called them Corporal or Drill Sergeant. Dean had been to enough church in his life to know they were all named after demons, and they fit their namesakes.

 

Cas stood again, pulling off his sweaty t-shirt to put on a clean one. Dean found his eyes drawn to Cas’ body again, but he looked away before he did something stupid like stare in his eyes. “We should, uh, probably get going.”

 

Most of the men from their platoon had gone straight to the mess hall, but the three had asked permission to change. In truth, they needed a minute break. At least now they would miss most of the line.

 

They hustled to the mess hall and made it as the line was dwindling down. They found seats next to Ronald Reznick, Duane Tanner, and Tommy Collins.

 

They talked as they started eating. They told each other a bit about their families and where they were from. Dean told the guys about Sam and Adam an then turned to Cas. “You’re Dad was in the Navy, right Cas?”

 

“Yes, I lived on Navy bases growing up. I’ve seen a lot of the world.”

 

“Why did you join the Marines instead of the Navy?”

 

Cas gave Dean a long look before answering, like his reply was only for Dean’s ears, “I wanted something a little different with my life.”

 

"You know Hitler is from space?" Reznick told the table.

 

"What?"

 

"He's from another world. He's making the perfect, healthy race so that his people will have a food source when they colonize here. We'll all be cattle to them."

 

It was the most ridiculous thing Dean ever heard, and Sam had come up with some pretty crazy stories when he was little. "Sound's like you've been reading too much H. G. Wells.”

 

"Yeah, you know the Pope would stop someone else from taking over the world," Ash told them.

 

"You're Catholic?"

 

"No, but you know the Jesuits have their hooks in everything. Freemasons, French Revolution, the Titanic, you see the connection? Their stocking up their money and creating another war to create a universal empire for the Pope to rule."

 

Compared to Ash's theory, Reznick almost sounded reasonable.

 

Cas let out an almost silent chuckle at Ash's words, and Dean looked into Cas’ eyes. They were the bluest eyes he had ever seen, brighter than the San Diego Bay, full of innocence and curiosity, ready to take on the world. Binney & Smith should make a Munsell Crayola the color of his eyes.

 

"They torture us all day long, they should at least give us alcohol," Ash spoke from beside him. He missed how Ash connected his points, but Dean agreed with that part. He kept looking into Cas' eyes, willing Cas to look away. He continued staring back. Yeah, a drink sounded great right about then.

 

**October 15, 1939**

 

Dean didn’t know why the sergeants had a personal vendetta against him, but they seemed to have it out for him from the beginning. He spent more hours than anyone cleaning the latrines and scrubbing the floor. Ash and Cas usually helped him, but sometimes Lehre pulled them away so they couldn’t. When he wasn’t cleaning, he was running. Any minor infraction and they sent Dean for laps in the courtyard until his legs gave out. He was punished for stupid things when everyone else was excused.

 

When one of the Campbell cousins had a crease in his shirt, he was chewed out, but when Dean had a crease in his shirt, He ran for half an hour and cleaned the floors with a toothbrush. At least they let Cas clean with him when he volunteered.

 

Dean avoided looking at Cas’ figure bent over the floor, complete focus on his face and he cleaned every grain of dirt out of his path. And if he managed to glance over, it was only to study how to perform his job better.

 

Dean thought he looked up when Cas’ eyes were on him, but Cas always managed to look away. Until Cas stopped looking away and they kept catching each other's eyes. And when Cas didn’t look away, Dean just wanted to reach out to him. It wasn’t a romantic feeling, Cas just made him feel like home, and he really couldn’t blame himself for wanting to be near that. The deep blue eyes were just a bonus.

 

In the end, it wasn't a bad night. It was nice spending time side by side with Cas, and it only helped they were the only ones in the building. If their arms or legs bumped into each other once or twice, it was purely coincidence.

 

But this morning when Dean woke up, he didn’t have to worry about cleaning or running. Free Sundays meant they had free time, and despite being hated by the sergeants, all three of them had their requests for a leave from the base approved. It was only for a few hours, but it was more than Dean had hoped for.

 

They left as early as they could in the morning and made their way down to the beach. While Kansas would start getting colder by now, San Diego was paradise. The sun beat down on them, and they were quickly sweating through their shirts after the sun was up. Dean was the first to take his shirt off, and they walked closer to the beach. He had the greatest farmer’s tan of his life. The lines from where his shirt’s neck and arms fell showed his tan from the hours of running and training in the sun, but underneath, he was still white, and his freckles popped from where they had been hidden. Ash had the same pale skin underneath his shirt, but when Cas took off his shirt, his tan lines were barely visible.

 

“Damn Cas, you go tanning without us, Buddy?” Dean asked him. He’d seen Cas shirtless before in the showers, but somehow, under the sun in the early morning hours, his tan shone under the sun.

 

“You know I was raised in the Navy I’ve spent my life on boats and port cities around the world. I’ve had a tan my entire life.”

 

They stripped down before jumping in the water at the closest beach. Privacy had been long gone at the recruit depot, and they were all comfortable around each other by now.

 

“How soon do we start our water and swimming training?” Ash asked them.

 

“In the Navy,” Cas said, “the training in the water starts the first week. They practice diving and swimming in every temperature water. Specialty units like the SEALS get even more training. But we are in a condensed training program. I bet we’ll be lucky to get more than a few days in a pool.”

 

“What do you mean ’condensed program’?”

 

“I mean that the typical program is twelve weeks, but they are trying to get as many people through as possible before war breaks out, so they sped up the program. I’ve heard they are sending more people to specialty schools in anticipation and expanding recruiting across the US.”

 

“Why didn’t we know we were on a tightened schedule?” Dean asked him. “How did you even know?”

 

“The Marines are still a branch of the Navy, and my father is well connected.”

 

As much as Dean liked Cas, sometimes he got that know-it-all look and attitude that Dean just wanted to punch off his pretty little face. “Right. So what does that mean for us?”

 

“We won’t get nears as much training as past groups. And the drill sergeants are worried about it, so they are pushing us harder. Haven’t you seen how worried they are?”

 

“You mean they aren’t supposed to be assholes?”

 

“No, they are, it’s part of conditioning us. But they are pushing us harder than they normally would and doling out harsher punishments.”

 

“Is that why they use me like a personal servant?”

 

“You have a stronger sense of free will and individuality than most, Dean.”

 

He didn’t know whether to be mad or proud of himself. “They just need me to be a good little soldier, don’t they?”

 

“Well, yes, that is what the armed forces are centered around.”

 

He figured he should have known that going in, but it hadn’t been something he thought about. He’d just wanted to help people, to fight for what was right.

 

When they got bored in the water, they climbed back to the beach and put on their underwear on to lay in the sun. Dean had done things for his looks that he would never admit to, like shaving his legs and plucking his eyebrows, but he had never suntanned before. He laid on his stomach between the two men and watched as they took in the sun.

 

At some point, his eyes gazed over to Cas. He had one hand over his eyes blocking the sun. His muscles, like the rest of the mens’, had grown during their training. Dean had broad shoulders and a deep chest that sloped down into a smaller waist, but Cas was more even through his body. He had more lean muscles when they began and thicker thighs from biking and running all his life. His arms and stomach had started to bulk up from training but still didn’t watch Dean’s arms. The little pudge that had been on Cas’ lower stomach had disappeared in the last two weeks, and faint outlines of muscles could be seen starting to build up. In another two weeks, he was sure Cas would be much more strapping, but Dean still admired his shape.

 

When Cas turned over, Dean couldn’t stop himself from watching the muscles in his arms and shoulders ripple with movement, and when he settled, he tracked down the slope of his back. His boxers did nothing to hide the shape of his ass and Lord, Cas had a better ass than Lisa.

 

He heard a rustle and looked up to see Cas staring at him. Dean felt the blush rise from his chest at getting caught looking, but Cas just smiled at him and kept eye contact. Dean stared back admiring the crinkles Cas’ eyes made when he laughed and the handful of freckles across Cas’ nose. He was probably imagining the way Cas seemed to move closer without moving a muscle and only looked away when he felt Cas’ foot bump up against his. He didn’t pull away, and when he still felt Cas’ eyes on him a minute later, he looked back down.

 

Cas’ hand inched down from where it rested above his head, and Dean had a split second before it fell on his shoulder. He wanted to lean into the comforting weight. He wanted to reach up and touch Cas too. But while they could have excused their legs brushing together in the sand, they wouldn’t be able to explain grabbing each other if anyone saw them. If Ash saw them.

 

He pulled away and sat up. “We should probably get back before I look like a lobster.”

 

Cas laughed, “You could have a Halloween costume though. I bet you’d still look good like a lobster.”

 

And damn Cas for being able to say he looked good. Dean knew Ash would take it as a joke and Dean was nicknamed the pretty boy of the company. “Yeah, you wish you could look half as good as me,” he shot back. In his mind, Cas looked much better than he did, but Dean couldn’t just say something like that in front of Ash.

 

Cas just shot him a knowing look and said, “I bet the church services are just ending I should get back and talk to the chaplain.”

 

“Why are you interested in the Chaplin if you don’t go to church?”

 

“I feel like many religions have distorted God’s word, but I enjoy talking to religious leaders one-on-one about biblical theology and practice using my Latin.”

 

“You know Latin?”

 

“I know many languages, Dean.”

 

If he didn’t know it before, he knew it now. Cas was a weird guy. A fascinating, weird little guy.

 

When they made it back to the base, the Campbell cousins met them just inside the gate.

 

“Hey!” Christian said. “We have a boxing ring set up; you guys want to fight?”

 

Dean smirked. He had some anger and frustration building up, and he couldn’t think of a finer thing to do with it at the moment. “That sounds great.”

 

They waved goodbye to Cas and followed the cousins to the ring set up in the courtyard by the sleeping quarters.

 

Zeddmore and Spangler were in the ring, and it looked like they were playing around. Neither one could make a fist, and it looked like they were trying to scratch each other’s eyes out. It was the most pathetic thing he’d ever seen. He leaned over to Mark, “Can I get in there and punch their stupid little lights out?”

 

He said it just loud enough for Ash and Christian to hear, and they all laughed. Zeddmore looked up and put on an angry face. “You got something to say, Winchester?”

 

Christian answered before he could open his mouth, “My ten-year-old sister throws a better punch than either one of you.”

 

Mark laughed, “Gwen would punch your lights out before you could get one of your scratches in.”

 

The men in the ring walked toward them. You think you can fight better? Have at it.”

 

Mark nudged Dean, “Let’s go for it.”

 

They climbed in and faced off. It was an even match, and each of them got some well-placed hits before they were both panting. Dean forgot how exhausting it was to fight hand to hand. Dean crouched to dive at Mark’s knees, but he jumped out of the way and dived onto his back. While Mark tried to get ahold of his arms and pin him, Dean fought to turn over. When they were eye to eye, Dean wrapped his legs around Mark’s throat and moved to choke him out. After nearly a minute, Mark tapped out, and Christian and Ash moved to take their place.

 

After Christian had taken out Ash, Duane Tanner took down Tommy Collins, and Phil Amici took down Ronald Reznick. Dean jumped when a hand landed on his shoulder, and he turned to see Cas’ blue eyes. He shrugged away and patted Cas on the shoulder in greeting. “You going to take a go in the ring, buddy?”

 

“I prefer not to fight when I can help it. But I encourage boxing to improve the mens’ skills.”

 

“You saying you don’t need to practice your skills, Cas?” Ash asked from beside them

 

“Of course not, but I prefer to practice on things that don’t give me black eyes like the one Dean has.”

 

Dean blushed and looked down. Mark did get a good hit to his face.

 

“Come on Cas, you and me? What do you say, we could give it a go,” Dean pleaded.

 

Cas looked reluctant, so Dean grabbed his wrist and pulled him to the ring. He figured if he could take down Mark Campbell, he would easily take down Cas. But apparently, Cas learned something from his years around the Navy. A few fast punches and Cas had him laid on the ground. Cas’ legs pinned him down and fuck, Cas was straddling him. Dean cocked an eyebrow up to where Cas perched against him, and one side of Cas’ lips twitched up into a smirk.

 

Dean made a grab for Cas’ shoulders to turn him, but Cas grabbed right above his wrists and held him down. This did not feel anything like fighting Mark. Dean bucked up his hips, fighting for friction with his feet and Cas full on grinned when their crotches rubbed together. He kept trying to wiggle free, and his eyes moved down from Cas’ eyes to his lips. The fucker’s tongue darted out to lick his lips. Suddenly, Dean had a bigger problem when he realized he had a semi in his pants. Without another thought, he tapped out and pushed Cas off him on his way to the bathroom.

 

**October 23, 1939**

 

Dean ended up next to Cas on the bus to Camp Holcomb, the training center in Camp Kearny. Because the Recruit Depot was too close to civilians, they had to move a little further out for rifle practice.

 

DI Rolston managed to end up on the same bus as them, and Dean hoped they would evade the Corporal’s eye. He seemed to have a particular joy in singling out Dean for torture.

 

In the last week, Dean cleaned the bathrooms more times than he could count and scrubbed the floor by hand twice. They named him the house mouse, the only one of the men that could go into the instructors quarters to clean.

 

He was more than ready for a week in the field.

 

With the condensed training and full Recruiting Depot, they combined the field and bivouac training instead of going back to the Depot to sleep. DI Trimble assigned him and Cas a tent to share, and Ash and Reznick sat up next to them. The two of them got along well enough and spent most of their time together trying to outdo each other’s conspiracy theories.

 

Once the tents were set up, the men took their rifles to the range to practice with live rounds. Dean and Cas started with practicing marksmanship. They stood, kneeled, sat, and laid while shooting at the 200, 300, and 500-yard marks. Dean hit every mark from every position, by far the best shot in his group.

 

When his turn ended, Cas took his spot, and Dean couldn’t help his eyes from wandering over Cas’ body. His dark hair was growing back and was long enough that Cas could run his fingers through to style it.

 

He watched the muscles in the back of Cas’ neck and shoulders through his shirt, which was just tight enough to show off his form. As the group moved from standing to kneeling, the muscles under Cas’ shirt flowed with movement. He refrained from looking at the Cas' ass when he laid in front of him, but he couldn’t avoid admiring the way his pants stretched around his thighs. He turned to the guy next to him, Christian Campbell, and distracted himself before he got caught ogling at the display in front of him.

 

They were each given a blanket to sleep with, and Cas fell asleep against one of the walls. They were all warned about silence in the field, and it carried a higher punishment to make noise out here than in the barracks at night. By the light of the moon, Dean sat and wrote a letter home. He told Sam about the people he’d met and going down to the beach last Sunday with Ash and Cas. He told Adam about shooting with his rifle and boxing with the other guys. And he told them both to be gentle with their Dad. He signed off with his customary “ Can’t wait to see you again,” and folded up the paper.

 

He pulled the blanket over himself but sat up watching Cas sleep. He felt something for Cas, felt a tingling in his gut when he thought of him. After a lifetime of pushing down his feelings, he hated to admit he didn't have the words to describe what he felt.  It was like he wanted to protect Cas from everything. Like he wanted to travel through his life and meet everyone he'd ever met and seen everything he'd ever seen and get to know him a way even best friends didn't quite know each other. Sure Cas made him laugh, and they got along great, but it went deeper than that, like being around Cas made him feel like he was home. And when Dean looked at Cas, that way that lasted too long and made something twist in his stomach and made his gut tingle, it was starting to feel like he passed over the line between friendship and something else.

 

And what was he even supposed to do about that?

 

As Dean’s eyes trailed down the side of Cas’ face to the curve of his jaw, he heard a groan escape the other man’s lips. Cas had nightmares a few times in the Depot, and Dean usually woke him up to end them. This time though, when Dean put his hand on Cas’ arm he stopped himself from shaking him awake.

 

Dean rubbed his hand up and down Cas’ arm, soothing him with soft assurances that he was okay, the same way he comforted Sam when he was little. Except this wasn’t the same. As Cas stilled and quieted under the touch, Dean stopped moving his whole hand and started stroking with his thumb, keeping the slow assurances coming.

 

Dean’s eyes drooped shut, and he timed the stroke of his thumb to match his breathing. He wondered why Cas’ had nightmares. His dad’s were about the war and losing Mary. Sam’s were about being stuck with John the rest of his life and thinking that he somehow caused their mom's death. And his, well, Dean ignored those. But what happened in Cas’ life to give him nightmares?

 

He was restless most of the night, always conscious of the space between them. He kept his hand on Cas’ arm and convinced himself it stayed there for the comfort it provided Cas. A few hours from reville, he finally pulled his hand away and turned his back on Cas, He felt ridiculous. He wasn’t some girl getting stuck on the first attractive guy he saw. He woke for reville at 0400 on the opposite side of the tent. It was small though, and he was still only inches from Cas. As they changed, Dean avoided looking at him, especially avoided eye contact. But after another day of rifle and mortar practice, they crawled into the tiny bivouac together. He felt the awkward pause from Cas, but draped the blanket over himself and fell asleep.

 

On the third night, Cas finally asked, “Dean, are you okay?”

 

“I’m great, Cas, how are you?”

 

Cas squinted at him. “I'm all right,” he said after a moment.

 

Dean smiled and fell asleep facing away from him again. When they woke up the next morning, the inches he placed between them had disappeared. Dean ignored it.

 

The next night, he woke to Cas’ stuttered breath and soft cries. Dean turned and put his hand on Cas’ shoulder, tracing patterns and mumbled some quiet assurances. Cas rolled onto his stomach, and Dean’s hand fell to Cas’ back where he continued to rub right between his shoulder blades. “It’s okay, Cas, you’re okay,” he kept up in a steady stream. Cas slipped back into a deeper sleep and stilled, but Dean didn’t move his hand away.

 

With the full moon above them, the bivouac was bright enough to see the details of Cas’ face. He only had a few freckles across his nose, nowhere near as many as he had. His eyelashes were full and dark, curled even when his eyes were closed. The dark hair on his head was growing back thick and unruly like it couldn't pick a direction to grow. He wanted to reach an arm up and run his hand through it, try and tame it, but instead, he pulled closer to Cas’ side, close enough to feel the body heat, and fell back asleep.

 

Cas was out of the tent before reveille. By dinner, Dean told Ash, “He’s avoiding me.”

 

“All the guys avoid each other the morning after.”

 

Dean stopped and gave Ash a careful look. “What?”

 

“I mean it’s not just you two, a lot of the guys are showing each other how to stay warm at night. No one talks about it.”

 

Dean blinked up at him confused, and Ash lowered his voice, “I heard you guys up late last night.”

 

“He had another nightmare. Does everyone here think we’re fucking?” When Ash looked down, Dean added, “We’re not fucking!  Nothing happened.”

 

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch; honestly most guys wouldn’t care. It’s been three weeks since I seen a broad around. It ain’t healthy for anyone to go that long without a release. It's just buddies helping buddies.”

 

Dean looked down to where Reznick was shoveling food into his mouth. “You and him, huh?”

 

“No, don’t be a girl. That man has the most noxious gas I’ve ever smelled. Look, all you gotta do is tell a guy that it gets lonely without your girl around, and if he agrees, go for a walk. There’s plenty of flyboys and sailors up here if you don’t wanna do anything with one of our guys. Don’t make it harder than it needs to be.”

 

He turned back to his food but stopped again after a minute. “Watch out for the ones that seem too hesitant. They might be queer.”

 

“Wouldn’t they be the eager ones?”

 

“Nah, they don’t want anyone to find them out.”

 

Dean nodded and finished his food. He and Cas kept their distance in the tent that night, and after another long day of more field training, they moved back to the Depot for their Sunday off.

 

It was only a 20-minute ride on the bus, but it was hot, and he was exhausted, and Rolston just kept talking. Dean didn’t even realize he was asleep and his head was on Cas’ shoulder until he felt a nudge at his side. Cas was shaking him awake, but it was too late, and Lehne’s yelling could wake the dead.

 

“Is the Corporal boring you, Winchester? If you want to be a Marine, you listen to orders, and you follow instructions, they are life and death, Meathead!”

 

Dean scrambled to sit iron-straight. “Yes, Drill Sergeant.”

 

“If you know, Winchester, then why did you find yourself asleep on your boyfriend here?”

 

Dean knew better than to answer, and Lehne kept going, “You disrespect the position you are presented with, skinhead.” Dean had the gall to look at him. “Am I interesting to you, idiot? Eyes forward!”

 

The tirade lasted until they came to a stop. Between a headache from the yelling and the growing tension with Cas, he needed to let his frustration out somehow.

 

**October 29, 1939**

 

When Cas left for his weekly talk with the chaplain, Dean moved back out to the boxing ring. Boxing became a weekly release for him lately, and it was the best way to let out all his frustrations. They set up a system for fights in the last few weeks. Dean’s only loss was against Cas, so even though it was Cas’ only fight, he was ranked first. No one else had managed to pin Dean, so he was second. The Campbell cousins and Duane Tanner rounded out the top five.

 

Dean had to wait for his turn in the ring. He didn’t know the first few guys, and the ones he did know weren’t that exciting. He was disappointed when his first match was against Zeddmore. The guy had some kind of personal vendetta against him, and it made Dean laugh every time. He easily blocked the first few punches and was ready to knock him out when he saw Cas in the back of the crowd.

 

After their on again, off again games last week, he was just cocky enough to give Cas a show. He caught Cas’ eyes and winked to let him know this was for him. When Zeddmore punched again, Dean ducked and grabbed his arm twisting it around his back. He pulled it tight until he knew it hurt before letting go, dropping Zeddmore to the ground. He followed the rules and didn’t kick while he was down, but when Zeddmore stood back up, Dean kicked a leg out and hooked his foot behind Zeddmore’s knees, sending him tumbling back down.

 

Dean looked back up to catch Cas’ eye and saw him shake his head. He would have knocked Zeddmore out then, but Cas had a huge smile on his face. It was the first time Dean saw Cas laugh. With a smile on his face, Dean reached out a hand to help Zeddmore up. He pushed it away and got up on his own, so out of spite, Dean sent a punch straight to the bridge of Zeddmore’s nose. Zeddmore tapped out when the blood started flowing.

 

Dean waved Cas over to where Ash stood, and they both clapped him on the back in congratulations. Dean wrapped an arm around Cas' neck and pulled him close in a side hug. Dean felt Cas reach a hand up to the middle of his back and then felt Cas go still under him. The touch sent a spark through him, and he really wanted to lean over and pull Cas into a kiss. Instead, he heard Ash ask who he was fighting next and felt Cas pull away from under his arm. He went mindless for a few minutes until he was face to face with Spangler in the ring.

 

He didn’t quite remember how he got there, but he saw Cas watching him again and threw out a right-hook to the side of Spangler’s jaw. He kept looking to Cas between hits for something to ground him. How pathetic that only the blue of Cas’ eyes could ground him. Slowly, the grin returned to his face, and he found himself in the fight. He didn’t even break a sweat when he knocked Spangler out.

 

When the Campbell cousins jumped in the ring behind him, he walked back to Cas and Ash.

 

“I’m going to go eat,” Cas told them.

 

“We’ll go with you.”

 

“Don’t you have more fights?”

 

“Nah, They give you a break after a bit. I got at least an hour until the next one.”

 

The spaghetti at the mess hall wasn’t half bad.

 

“Dude, those idiots didn’t stand a chance against me.” He knew he’d said it a million times, but Cas gave him a smile every time, so he kept saying it.

 

“Yes, we saw.”

 

Dean gave him another grin and continued the play-by-play. Finally, Cas stood up, “I need to go talk to the SDI. I’ll meet you back at the ring.”

 

Ash nodded, but Dean frowned. Ash never indulged his stories like Cas did.

 

Ash looked over at Dean and asked, “Did you two ever go clean your pipes together?”

 

“What?”

 

“You know. Did you go for a walk together?”

 

“No, of course not.”

 

“Yeah, well maybe you should. A good rub and tug will help out whatever it is you guys have going.”

 

“Nothing is going on. Why do you think something is going on?”

 

“Because I have eyes. And so does everyone else. You need to something about it before anyone else catches on.”

 

Dean took a long inhale and exhaled before he looked down and nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

 

You know I’m just looking out for you guys, right?”

 

“Yeah, I know.” And that was the problem. Dean couldn’t just keep denying that nothing was happening. Because they both knew that something was. And they both knew it was wrong.

 

**October 31, 1939**

 

Dean woke up next to Cas again. After Sunday off, they came back to Holcomb for Basic Warrior Training. Now, not only were they in bivouacs, but they were only allowed to eat MREs, and they were divided into platoons. Cas was their platoon leader, and Dean was the second-in-command. He was glad he could keep an eye on how Cas was doing and help with responsibilities, but he had a feeling that Cas would have picked someone else if he had the option.

 

He spent the entire night focusing on exactly where his and Cas’ bodies were and how much space they had between them. Every time Dean moved a little closer, Cas moved a bit further away. It felt like Cas was trying to pull away from him.

 

They were eating breakfast—porridge, dried peaches, and instant coffee—outside of their tent when the Campbell cousins came up to Cas. “Communications school, huh?”

 

Cas looked down and his food. “Specialty school?” Dean asked. “You didn’t say anything.”

 

“It doesn’t matter.”

 

“But, we were gonna serve together. All of us.”

 

“In all likelihood, we will all separate to where we're needed.”

 

“But, that’s ridiculous,” he looked across to Ash, “That’s ridiculous, right?”

 

“It’s a bummer, but that’s life, I suppose.”

 

“They can’t split us up. We’ve trained together. We are comfortable together.”

 

“This isn’t the last of our training,” Cas told him. “We’ll get lots of company training later.”

 

Dean stopped talking. He didn’t want to be separated from Cas. He didn’t know what that meant exactly, but he knew he didn’t want to be separated. He wanted to get to know him, talk about his family, find out what his favorite food was, what he had nightmares about.

 

When they were getting ready to sleep that night, he looked over to Cas. He kept his voice quiet so they wouldn’t catch the attention of the DIs. “Tell me about your family.”

 

They locked eyes, “What do you want to know?”

 

He wanted to say everything, but went with, “You have brothers, right?”

 

“Yes. A twin brother, an older brother and sister, and a little brother and sister.”

 

“Wow, that’s a big family. Tell me about them.”

 

“Well, James—Jimmy—is my twin brother. He just finished Navy basic, and he’s headed to Hawaii soon for the _Oklahoma_. He and his wife have a baby girl, Claire. She’s adorable, blond hair and huge blue eyes. Then there’s Gabriel—Gabe. He’s five years older, uh, 26 now. He flies on the Big E, just finished in the Caribbean, and headed to Hawaii—”

 

“—The ‘Big E’?”

 

“Uh, yeah, the _Enterprise_ . It’s an aircraft carrier, _Yorktown-_ class. He’s a total prankster and likes to mess with the other flyboys. Anna, my feisty, redheaded sister, she’s, uh, 23 now. She’s a Navy nurse on Pearl Harbor. We got a letter right before I started here, said she was dating a native. Dad was furious.” Dean watched Cas’ lip turn up with a smile.

 

“Then there’s Muriel. She’s 17 and sweet as a button, a pacifist, wants to help people. And Ishim.” His voice grew cold, “Well, I don’t get along with Ishim as well.”

 

Dean laid his hand on Cas’ arm. “You alright?”

 

“Yeah,” Cas pulled his arm away to wipe his face and set his hand back close to Dean’s. Close enough to feel the friction between them. “I guess it’s been a while, huh? Tell me about your brothers.”

 

Dean told him all about raising Sam after Mary’s death and adding Adam to the family.

 

“They sound like great kids.”

 

“They’re the best.”

 

Cas smiled, “Yeah, mine too.”

 

Dean took a minute to admire Cas’ smile. It lit up the tiny tent like a ray of sunshine amidst the darkness around them, like his happiness had its own glow. Through the moonlight, Dean watched his eyes crinkle in laughter. “You know, one time when we were little, Gabe convinced Jimmy and me we could fly.”

 

“I bet that didn’t end too well.”

 

“We were ready to jump off the roof before Anna saved us.”

 

“He kinda sounds like an asshole.”

 

“Nah, he just likes to play. I don’t think he’d have let us go through with it.”

 

He smiled thinking of the pranks he’d pulled on Sam, and they sat in silence for a moment.

 

“You never talk about your mom,” Cas said.

 

“Yeah, I was pretty little when she died.”

 

“What do you remember about her?”

 

“She made rice and tomato soup when I was sick. She sang me to sleep every night and told me angels were watching over me.”

 

He looked up to see Cas smile, “You know I’m named after an angel?”

 

“Does that mean you’re gonna take care of me out there, Cas?”

 

“I’ll have your back. Like everyone else.”

 

Dean let out a nervous laugh and looked down. He caught sight of their fingers which had brushed up against each other. The backs of their fingers settled against each other, and Dean moved a finger up, stroking the back of Cas’ hand.

 

Cas jumped back, “I should get to sleep. We need to be up early.”

 

Dean watched as Cas settled as close to the side of the tent as he could, and he kept his distance.

 

Outside of what they needed to communicate through training, they didn’t talk much through the week. It was just as well; Dean felt his usual funk that came around every year. He wondered how Sam and John were doing at home. John was always the worst of them. Dean stopped counting how many times he cleaned the house up after one of his dad’s fits.

 

On Thursday, Dean asked Ash for the flask he kept hidden so he could make it through the day.

 

“What’s got you so worked up?”

 

Dean gave him a ‘don’t ask me questions’ look, and Ash handed it over. He put all of his focus on hitting targets and ignored everything else around him.

 

SDI Osborne pulled him to the side after he finished a meatloaf MRE for lunch. Dean wasn’t sure if he cared about getting in trouble about the flask or his buzz. “Walk with me, son.”

 

They fell into step and walked to the camp HQ.

 

“Did you know your company's shooting averages are low? Abysmal, really. It comes with the shortened schedule.” Dean nodded but didn’t say anything. “You, however, have the highest average we’ve seen in a long while. Why haven’t you seen me about specialty school?”

 

“This recruit hasn't thought about it, Sir.”

 

“Well, we are sending you to school. Do you want a say on which one?”

 

“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

 

Osborne pulled out Dean’s file. “You are excelling in artillery and mechanics classes. You’ve done well with leadership this week. You could have your pick of schools. Soon we'll need officers, mechanics, armorers, engineers; you name it. How do you like working with weapons? Mortars? Howitzers? Grenade launchers? Your file says you worked in a garage before joining; we could get you working on motors. You could work on tanks or trucks or jeeps.”

 

“That sounds great, Sir, thank you.”

 

He filled out his application and wondered what his mother would think about him. Would she believe he was doing the right thing? On the anniversary of her death, what would she think about his actions?

 

She would hate it; he knew she would. She wanted sweet little boys that would never see any conflict, like John. In his heart, he wanted to make her happy, but it was easier said than done. He wondered if he would ever stop trying to live up to what he thought her expectations were.

 

When he crawled into the tent that night, he stayed curled up on his side. Once everything was silent, and he was sure Cas was asleep, he thought about his mom. He felt the tears on his face and sighed to himself. He was acting like a sissy, momma’s boy. Wasn’t the Marines supposed to toughen him up? And yet he couldn’t stop himself. He missed Sam. And Adam. And, Lord, sometimes he just wanted his Mom.

 

Cas turned over next to him. “Dean?”

 

Shit. He tried to wipe his face, but he knew Cas caught him.

 

He felt a hand on his shoulder. “Hey there, you okay?”

 

He wanted to turn over, to see Cas’ face, to have Cas tell him it would be fine. But he laid as still as he could.

 

And then Cas pressed against his back, “It’s your mom, isn’t it.”

 

“Sixteen years and I still act like a baby.”

 

“It’s okay to feel emotion, Dean.”

 

“Not in the Marines.”

 

“Yes, in the Marines.”

 

He rolled over to face Cas. Their bodies pressed together, and he felt the heat of Cas’ breath on his face. One of his hands reached out in the dark and found Cas’ waist.

 

“There is nothing wrong with you, Dean.”

 

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

 

“Fine.”

 

They laid in silence for a minute before Cas rolled onto his back looking up at the top of the tent. Dean’s arm rested across Cas’ stomach, and Dean leaned his head forward and rested it on Cas’ shoulder. He wouldn’t ask Cas not to leave him. He refused to beg. "Can we..." he didn't want to say the word cuddle.

 

Cas wrapped an arm around his back, “Of course, Dean.”

 

It was the first time Dean didn’t have a nightmare on the anniversary of his mom’s death.

**November 4, 1939**

 

On Friday and Saturday, they finished their last tests. Their platoon was the highest scoring in land navigation and squad tactics, and Cas proudly took the trophies for them, though he gave the credit for tactics to Dean. He loved watching Cas’ smile as the guys congratulated him, but it wasn’t the same smile he gave Dean the other night. That smile would light up the room.

 

On Saturday, the company had their first approved night out. They’d only had the Sunday they went to the beach off the base, and Dean felt the buzz of the men around him, excited to go dance or watch a movie. Dean made sure his uniform was crisp and spotless. There wasn’t much he could do with his hair because it was still so short, but he tried to gel it as best he could. After a week and a half in the field, it felt good to have a night where he felt clean and could have a break.

 

Ash let out a whistle when he walked to their bunks. “You’re looking mighty spiffy there, Winchester.”

 

“Too bad I can’t say the same about you.”

 

“Fuck you, I look great.”

 

Dean heard Cas’ deep laugh behind him and turned. The khaki shirt and blue pants made the color in Cas’ eyes stand out. “You, on the other hand, Cas, buddy you're looking good.”

 

“Thank you, Dean.”

 

“You ready to let your hair down tonight?”

 

“Dean, my hair isn't long enough to be down,” Cas said it with his serious face and Dean could help himself from laughing.

 

Dean looked down and grabbed his tie to keep his hands from reaching out and grabbing Cas. He put it around his neck and attempted to tie it, but he ended up with a disaster of a knot.

 

“You need help there?” Cas asked, stepping into Dean’s space.

 

“Uh, yeah, that would be great.” He lifted his chin and Cas stepped even closer. Dean felt his warmth seep into him and felt his breath on his face. Minty.

 

Cas worked with a precision that came with experience, and within seconds he had Dean’s tie in a fancy knot. It was nice having someone take control like that, if only for a minute. “Thanks.”

 

“Of course, Dean.”

 

“Alright, if you two are done eye-fucking there, can we go?” Ash asked.

 

Dean took a step back and nodded to Ash to take the lead.

 

They took a bus south with some of the other guys to El Cortez, a hotel and the tallest building in the city. Dean, Cas, Ash, and Reznick grabbed a room together, but Ash and Reznick reminded them that they would get so many offers that night they wouldn't need the room. Dean wasn’t disappointed at the thought of only sharing the room with Cas.

 

They stayed long enough to put their things away and then they hit the street. It was still light out, and none of the dance clubs were going yet, so the men decided to grab a movie first.

 

 _Mr. Smith Goes to Washington_ looked popular and starred Jean Arthur and James Stewart. Dean was excited to see it, but once the film started, he focused in on Cas’ face next to him instead. His eyes lit up when Stewart stood up to the Senate. His lips twitched into a smile when Stewart filibustered. In Dean’s humble opinion, watching Cas made a much better movie, and if their knees or elbows touched, it did nothing but make Dean’s smile a little wider.

 

They found a burger joint after the movie. Dean told them stories about the Round Corner. He wondered if Sam or Adam were there now getting a break from John. When Dean lost his train of thought, Cas’ knee bumped his under the table to refocused him.

 

They found a dance hall after dinner with a crowded dance floor and Glenn Miller audible from the street. Men in Coast Guard, Navy, and Marine uniforms lined the bar and walls and stood in groups with women in every colored dress. Ash and Reznick both disappeared into the crowd at the sight of the women, and Dean walked to the bar with Cas and ordered a round of drinks.

 

“Do you dance?” Dean asked as they leaned against a wall and sipped at the beer.

 

“I can, but I choose not to unless the company is especially good.”

 

“You saying I’m not good company? Cas, you wound me.”

 

“I’m sure you’ll recover.”

 

They watched a blond girl in a Navy nurse uniform walk by and Cas turned to look at him. “Do you dance?”

 

“I took Lisa out once or twice at home. I can hold my own with a swing.”

 

“That’s something I’d like to see.”

 

Dean looked him up and down and handed over his beer. He turned to the nearest woman to them.

 

“Ma’am, would you care for a dance?”

 

He led her to the dance floor and stared over her shoulder at Cas, only breaking eye contact during spins. Cas’ smile grew as he watched them. Dean threw in a round-the-world and a pretzel for extra oomph and thanked the girl when the song came to an end.

 

He strutted back to Cas, shoulders thrown back.

 

“You look mighty proud of yourself.”

 

“I think it’s your turn to show off your moves.”

 

“I think I need some air after your show.”

 

Dean grinned, “I’m sure you do.” He turned back to the dance floor looking for their friends. “Why don’t you go outside, I’ll be out in a minute.”

 

Dean grabbed both beers from Cas. He spotted Ash by the bar and moved to let him know they were leaving.

 

“You’re a little too late to take him out for a walk; we’re surrounded by dames.”

 

“You’re an idiot.”

 

“Not according to MIT.”

 

“Shut up and take these beers, we’re going back to the hotel.”

 

“I’ll see you there. Unless I don’t make it back. Then take my bag back to the Depot.”

 

Dean waved in dismissal on the way out the door.  

 

Cas was looking up at the sky. “What do you know about constellations?”

 

“I can pick out the basics- Orion’ s belt, big and little dipper,” Dean traced his finger across the sky from the Little Dipper. “That is the North Star.”

 

“I learned all the constellations growing up around the Navy.”

 

“There is a park right over there. Would you like to go stargazing?”

 

Cas sized him up and smiled, “That sounds great.”

 

They walked through Balboa Park for a while until they saw an Asian looking building.

 

“It’s a Japanese tea house,” Cas told him. It was surrounded by little creeks that reflected the cherry trees and flowers in the pale moonlight.

 

“It’s pretty.”

 

Dean laid in the grass and crossed his arms behind his head. He turned his head to see Cas smile as his eyes roamed over his body.

 

“See something you like?”

 

“This water reflects the stars.”

 

“Uh huh, I’m sure it does.”

 

“Are you doubting me.”

 

“Never, Cas. Come show me some stars.”

 

Cas settled next to him and pointed up to a little V, “There is Taurus, he’s a bull, and those are the seven sisters on his shoulder.”

 

“That sounds like an interesting story.”

 

“In the _Epic of Gilgamesh_ , Ishtar sent Taurus to kill Gilgamesh because he didn’t return her love. Others think Taurus is stuck in an eternal battle with Orion. Greeks believed he was Zeus in a bull form that captured Europa.”

 

“What about that one?”

 

“Cassiopeia. She was a queen.”

 

“And that one?”

 

“Pegasus.”

 

“He was the horse with wings, right?”

 

“Yeah, he was.”

 

Dean turned on his side and lifted himself on an elbow. “See, I know some things.”

 

Cas looked up into his eyes, “That was never in question.”

 

“Shucks, Cas, you can’t say shit like that.”

 

“I’m not going to apologize.”

 

Dean laid a hand on Cas’ chest. “I didn’t ask you to.”

 

He felt Cas’ heartbeat under his shirt and the up and down breathing of his chest.

 

“Dean,” Cas growled out a warning. The vibrations moved under his hand, and he watched Cas’ Adam's apple bob.

 

“What?” Dean licked his lips.

 

“We can’t do this.”

 

“I definitely can do this.”

 

“We shouldn’t do this”

 

“All the guys are doing it, Cas.”

 

“I’m not all the guys.”

 

“That makes me want to do it even more.”

 

Cas parted his lips, and Dean grabbed his tie, pulling him up. Their lips met in the middle and Dean sighed out relief. It wasn’t a long kiss, but it was bruising. They both had chapped lips from hours in the sun, and their noses bumped together. It was sloppy and forceful, and the best kiss Dean ever had.

 

He looked back into Cas’ eyes. It was a half-moon, so there wasn’t an abundance of moonlight, but there was a lantern near the door of the Japanese tea house that gave them enough flickering light to see each other.

 

Cas’ eyes were bright and lit with desire, but Dean could see the fear too.

 

“Cas, what’s wrong? You want this, right?”

 

Cas nodded, but looked down and avoided his eyes.

 

“Cas, have you ever done this before?”

 

He nodded again still looking away.

 

“Hey,” Dean said grabbing his chin, “look at me.”

 

“What about Lisa? Are you cheating on her?”

 

“No, we’re more friends than anything. That can’t be the only reason you look so scared.”

 

“It’s not.” His eyes bounced around their surroundings as if he were looking for witnesses.

 

“Look, we don’t have to do this. But we don’t have to talk about it or make it into anything either. It’s just buddies helping buddies.”

 

Dean nearly rolled his eyes at Ash’s words coming out of his mouth. They both knew that this wasn’t that.

 

Dean’s heart dropped when Cas nodded into his hand still on his face. “Of course, Dean. This doesn’t mean anything.”

 

His eyes finally met Dean’s and starred as if he was willing Dean to challenge him. And he wanted to, he did. He wanted to tell Cas that he didn’t know what the feelings he had were, but he had never felt these feelings for anyone before. He wanted to kiss him, to just lay in each other’s arm all night and have Cas teach him every constellation they could see, and lazily make out under the moonlight.

 

But he couldn’t open his mouth and make himself say it. He just looked down and focused on the muscles in Cas’ neck poking out of his collar. And he leaned down to press his lips over the pulse point. He ignored the tiny gasp that escaped Cas mouth. If he looked at Cas’ face, his mouth, his eyes; he would kiss him again. But buddies did not kiss each other on the lips. They didn’t cuddle all night under the stars, and they definitely didn’t get stuck on their buddy.

 

Instead of looking at Cas’ eyes, he watched his hands inch their way down, and he worked the buttons on his shirt one at a time. Cas was tense and still like a Greek statue. Their bodies had both gained pure muscle mass with their training, and Dean regretted that he couldn’t worship Cas’ body like he wanted. That would be too intimate. He worried that even this was pushing the line of too much. He wondered if any of the other guys were shirtless when they did it.

 

He hesitated at Cas’ belt. His fingers trembled as he worked to undo the buckle and Cas’ hands covered his. Finally, he looked up to the blue eyes. “I swear I’m not a virgin, Cas.”

 

“It’s not much different with guys than with girls.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

Cas smiled at him and his fingers stilled under Cas’. “Let me help you.”

 

Dean looked back down. “Thanks, Buddy.” Buddy. Because every time he said Cas’ name, he wanted to stop and kiss him.

 

He let Cas undo his own belt and didn’t stop him when he reached over to Dean’s too.

 

Cas sat up on his knees and pulled his pants down over his ass and down far enough to free his dick. Dean, at a loss for what to do, followed his actions. Cas’ dick was thick and long and had a slight bend to the left. It was beautiful, just like Cas, even when it wasn’t hard.

 

Cas reached over and held his palm out. “I don’t have any of my KY lubricant. You’re gonna have to get it wet.”

 

“You want me to spit in your hand?”

 

“Yes. Or lick it. I promise it is more comfortable when wet.”

 

“Wait… Cas… you’re not gonna… I don’t think that will fit in me.”

“I trust you. Do you trust me?”

 

Dean nodded. If he didn’t trust Cas, he wouldn’t be here.

 

He wiggled his hand again. “Get it wet. We aren’t even hard yet.”

 

Dean reached out and grabbed Cas; hand, pulling it closer. He ran an experimental swipe of his tongue up Cas’ palm. It tasted like the beer from the bar. He widened the stripes, and he worked, adding more and more saliva as he went. When he wanted him closer, he took Cas’ longest fingers and sucked, getting them as wet as he could before he swallowed. Cas let out a soft sigh at the sensation, and Dean worked at the palm again getting it as wet as he could. Finally, Cas pulled his hand away and reached down.

 

Cas grabbed his own dick first and gave it a few strokes before looking up at him. He pointedly kept his gaze down, avoiding Cas’ eyes. Cas moved closer to him walking forward on his knees. Cas leaned his head down to his shoulder and bit through his shirt. It wasn't a hard bite, but it was enough for his dick to show some interest. Cas reached forward and took Dean in hand, giving him a few tugs before sliding their cocks together.

 

As his blood rushed down, his head dropped to Cas’s shoulder and mouthed along Cas’ neck and jaw. He was careful not to leave marks, but he let a few tiny nips in. His hands raised to Cas’ waist and back, pulling his body closer.

 

Cas was longer than him and when his hips jutted forward, his dick pressed against Dean's balls. Dean's hand reached down to cover Cas’ where it stroked them both, and their fingers intertwined, with Cas’ firm body pressed flush against his, he unashamedly rocked his hips forward chasing a high.

 

“Cas,” he panted out, “Cas I’m gonna…”

 

Cas’ hand shot up and pushed him back onto the grass. He didn't have time to catch his breath before Cas’ lips covered the head of his dick. Cas’s hands held his hips down as Dean came, and Dean couldn't help his hands from reaching up to Cas’ hair and pulling.

 

“Fuck, fuck Cas. God fuck.”

 

Cas continued sucking as he came down from his high and only pulled off when he pushed back on his shoulders. Cas ran a thumb over his lips and his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.

 

Cas’ cock still sat hard and heavy between his legs, and he sat back on his haunches. Dean thought about sucking him off like Cas did for him, but Cas reached a hand down and started stroking himself slowly.

 

When Dean sat up and made a move to reach out, Cas pushed him back down. “Just lay back, you're all right.” Cas speed up his strokes as he worked himself and reached his other hand down to roll his balls. The beads of pre-come slicked his hand, and the sound of the slick movements filled the air. It didn't take long for Cas to choke out an orgasm, coming in the grass beside them.

 

He fell back next to Dean and closed his eyes as if he was falling asleep. Dean refused to kiss him. He refused to show emotion. He couldn't stop himself from saying that was the hottest thing he’d ever seen.

 

The smile that graced Cas’ lips was worth it all.

 

Dean reached down and pulled his pants up. He stood and reached a hand down to help pull Cas up. Cas groaned like he wasn't ready to move yet and he had to prod him, “Come on, let's get back to the hotel.”

 

Cas grabbed the offered hand and buckled his pants back when he was on his feet. He buttoned his shirt back as they found their way out of the park. Dean didn't dare reach out, but when Cas’ shoulder bumped his, he bumped back. They smiled, and Dean let his arm reach around Cas’ neck before they found the street.

 

Cas searched his face, “You okay?”

 

“Yeah Cas, I'm amazing. You?”

 

“I am good, Dean.”

 

The fear that had been in Cas’ eyes before was gone, and he wasn't looking around like someone would jump them anymore.

 

Dean pulled his pack of smokes from his pocket and lit one. Neither one of them smoked much, not compared to a lot of the other guys who could smoke a pack or two a day. Dean took a long drag, and Cas plucked it from his mouth and took a matching drag. They passed it back and forth, and when it ran out, they lit another. They made it to the hotel on the third cigarette and took the elevator to the lounge on the top floor.

 

Cas settled back with a vodka tonic, and Dean had a double whiskey, neat. They sat and sipped their drinks by the window looking at the lights of the city.

 

“Where is the most interesting place you've lived?” he asked Cas.

 

Cas thought for a minute before answering. “I may have made it sound like I traveled across the world, but there aren’t actually many Naval Air Stations outside of the United States. There were some during the Great War, but most of those were shut down in 1918 and ‘19. I spent most of my time between Camp Kearny and Luke Field—”

 

“—Wait, you grew up on Camp Kearny? Like where we had our field training?”

 

“Yes. I know the base like the back of my hand.”

 

“So the field tactics and navigation that you credited me with—”

 

“—I only helped a little. You did very well on your own.”

 

“Damn Cas, if you know the area, you should say something.”

 

He looked down. “In the future, I will.”

 

“In the future? I thought I would never see you again after this week.”

 

“We could write… If you wanted to, we could.”

 

Cas’ voice sounded so hopeful that Dean couldn’t say no. He didn’t bother mentioning that he promised to write to his brothers every day and only managed to write once. “Yeah, Cas, that sounds great.”

 

Cas smiled, and Dean moved his legs a little wider, bumping his knee against Cas’. He would have moved it away, but when Cas’ smile widened, he left it.

 

“So, tell me about Luke Field. That’s in Hawaii, right?”

 

“Yes. It is one of the bases on Pearl Harbor. It’s beautiful, everything is always green like your eyes, and there are flowers and plants that you’ve never seen anywhere else. And the food, mmm, native food is fantastic. They take pigs and cook them under the ground, and it is fruity and smoky. And there is so much fruit. The ocean is clear blue, and you can see the fish swim under you.”

 

“That sounds like paradise.”

 

“It is. That is why Jimmy and Anna both made their way back there. Even Gabe is back there now. It’s like Heaven.”

 

“Leave it to an angel to know what heaven is like.”

 

Cas smiled and looked back down. They each took a few more sips of their drinks before Dean let out a huge yawn.

 

“We should probably get back downstairs,” Cas said. They stood and walked to the elevator. When the doors opened, he felt Cas hand on his back like he was helping Dean inside.

 

The little gesture made him smile, and when they stepped into the empty elevator, he boldly grabbed Cas hand. They both blushed and avoided eye contact, as the elevator moved down to their floor. Dean jumped away when the elevator came to a stop and opened the door for Cas. They used their key to open the door to their room and found it empty.

 

They undressed and climbed into the same bed. And when Dean woke up wrapped up in Cas’ limbs, he couldn’t help planting a kiss on his forehead to wake him up. When they traded hand jobs in the still empty room, it was only because they might never see each other again and he wanted to say a proper goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. Talking to the Chaplin was used as a joke during WWII. It was somewhat like 'tell someone who cares' and was used when someone couldn't handle the emotional aspects in the military, like the machoism. Although it was broadly used to tell people to stop complaining, it was used among gay GIs who couldn't handle sexual tension or other aspects of the homosocial base to talk to someone who could help them like the chaplain or psychiatrist. It was viewed as a safe place on bases where the men and women wouldn't face any judgment and could talk about what was actually troubling them. The chaplains and psychiatrists, nearly unanimously, protected gay GIs during training and the war and were a big reason why most gay men and women that served were not kicked out of the military. I would have left it like an easter egg, but I figured most of you wouldn't know. For more details about it or gay and lesbian life in WWII in general, check out Coming Out Under Fire: The History of Gay Men and Women in World War Two by Alan Berube. It is one of the main books for research for my thesis. It is a must read for LGBT history!
> 
> P.P.S. Kudos, comments, and bookmarks really encourage me to write faster! Also, if you subscribe, you'll know when I update!


	3. Kansas City

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING! Trigger warnings for this chapter include depression, emotional abuse from a parent, internalized homophobia, and a dog (if you are allergic).
> 
> It is taking me a while to write these really long chapters, and I just started school again- one semester to graduation! 18 credits this semester, a couple last classes in the spring, and I will finally be done!
> 
> I think I edited this chapter fairly well on my own, but please let me know if you catch anything so I can fix it. Same for any tag I need to add since I am awful at tagging. 
> 
> I tried to go into deep POV this chapter, but it didn't last long. Oh well. As always, let me know what you think!
> 
>  
> 
> [I Get Along Without You Very Well](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CoR-0hoh8F4)

**November 10, 1939**

 

After graduation, the men had a ten-day leave before reporting to their new units so they could have time to balance their training with their home lives. Most of the men were being scattered through the 2nd Division. Ash, Reznick, and the Campbell cousins all made it to the 6th Marines.

 

Cas and Dean were on different schedules because they were going to specialty schools. Cas would only get a few days leave before he would report to the 2nd Signal Company in San Diego for a new Field Telephone Training Program. Dean didn’t know what exactly Cas would be studying, but he knew communication would be vital in the field.

 

Dean’s program didn’t start until January. He caught the next train back to Kansas after graduation to spend the rest of the year working at the recruiting center in Kansas City. The Marines were expanding fast and needed more young and handsome recruiters to bring in men. That’s what he got from the instructions anyway.

 

He was glad he would get time with his brothers during the holidays. This was always a tough time around their house, and he was glad he wouldn’t leave Adam and Dean to deal with their dad alone.

 

Most of the men stayed in San Diego at hotels until they met with their new companies, but when Ash heard Dean was headed back to Kansas, he decided to join and meet up with his family. They spent most of the trip in the bar car again. With their uniforms, they fit in better than they did on the ride to San Diego. None of the guys in the car had been in battle, but they did meet a Navy pilot on his way to NAS Lakehurst in New Jersey.

 

Just the thought of a Navy pilot reminded him of Cas, and he hated it. The pilot, Ezra Woolvett, wasn't particularly interesting and spent most of their talk making up ridiculous stories to impress Dean, but they talked well past midnight anyway. Dean didn’t listen to a word Ezra said, but being around the guy made him feel like Cas was a little closer.

 

He couldn’t stand Ezra’s pompous attitude, and he drowned out the sound with alcohol. By the time Ash dragged him away to bed, Dean was on the high side of buzzed, drunk enough to write Cas, but not fall asleep halfway through.

 

When Dean woke up the next morning, he re-thought sending the letter. They were only hours away from the train station. He was only hours away from seeing Sam and Adam and his dad again. The bubble he’d spent the last month in was ready to pop, and he wasn’t sure what would bleed into his life. Cas was one thing that had to stay in the bubble.

 

When the train pulled up to the station, Dean prepared to say goodbye to his buddy. From the station in Kansas City, Ash would head a few hours north to stay with his adopted family during his leave before going back to San Diego to meet up with his new company.

 

He followed Ash off the train and saw him run to a young blond about Sam’s age and a middle aged, rough looking brunette lady. Dean had heard stories about Jo and Ellen, the mother and daughter that took him in when he ended up drunk at their speakeasy years ago.

 

Ash introduced them, and Jo looked up at him with big moon eyes and a blush on her cheeks. It was the look Lisa gave him when they were in high school together, and she wanted to let him know she liked him.

 

Any other time he might have flirted back, but it didn’t feel right anymore.

 

He declined their offer to drive him back to Lawrence and walked to the recruiting office after saying goodbyes.

 

The office was in a block with Army and Navy offices, and Dean introduced himself to the lieutenant inside, a no-nonsense guy named Daniel Elkins who served in the Great War. They talked for a while about what he would be doing and then, at last, he hopped a bus back to Lawrence.

 

He leaned back in his seat and smiled, ready to see his brothers again. He thought about writing and telling them to meet him at the station like Ash’s family, but he knew his dad would hate leaving the garage and he didn’t want Sam and Adam to have to come over by themselves when it might make John upset.

 

He had plenty of activities with his brothers planned. He still hated running, but with his training, he could probably outrun Sam. And he could take Adam shooting.

He dug his coat out of his bag when he stepped off the bus. It was so warm in California that he forgot how cold it could get at home. The bus dropped him off a block from the Round Corner, so he walked in on the off-chance Sam or Adam were there.

 

Robin saw him from the lunch counter and called to him, “Hey there, Marine. You’re back already?”

 

“Not for long, but I have a bit of time.”

 

“Can I get you a soda pop or sandwich? It’s on the house.”

 

“Thanks, but another time? I’m looking for my brothers.”

 

Robin’s dark eyes clouded as she squinted up at him. “I guess it's been a while since you talked to Sam then?”

 

“It has. Why do you ask?”

 

Long black locks fell around her shoulders as she shook her head, “No reason. Just tell him I hope he’s doing well.”

 

“Sure thing.” He headed to the door with a nod and walked to the house. It felt good to stretch his legs from so long on the train, and if it wasn’t for the duffle bag over his shoulder, he might consider jogging.

 

He smiled at the sidewalk where the roots of Miss. Moseley’s conifer bulged the sidewalk and stopped short when he saw his house. It was somewhere he’d never thought he’d miss. The green paint on the outside of the house had started to fade, and the blue of the curtains were white with sun bleach. The porch swing where he’d kissed Lisa for the first-time needed white washed again. Not all the memories from the house were good, but enough that he wanted to soak up the moment.

 

He jumped up the three steps the front porch and sat his duffle bag outside the screen door before opening it. He hit the big, white door with his shoulder when it stuck a little on the door frame and he smiled remembering Sam’s martial arts phase when he kicked the door open every time he came home.

 

The air inside the house matched the air outside, and Dean bundled his coat around himself tighter. Generally, they didn’t keep the house too warm to conserve electricity, but it felt like no one had bothered with the heat in days. He stepped into the living room and froze, glass and porcelain littered the floor of the kitchen.

 

He called out to see if anyone was home and ran upstairs when he heard a noise.

 

When he opened the door to Sam’s room, his heart dropped. The typically clean and organized room was covered in dirty clothes and used dishes that were starting to stink. Sam looked up at him from the blankets on the bed and covered his head back without saying anything.

 

“Sammy? What the hell?” He walked closer and sat on the edge of the bed when he didn’t get an answer. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”

 

A huff came from the blankets, and Dean reached out to pull them back. “Leave me alone, Dean.”

 

“Hell no. You’re the one that likes to talk, so come on, let’s talk about this. What’s wrong with you man?”

 

A long sigh came from the blankets. One of Sam’s hands pulled the blanket away from his face. “Dad got mad again. Told me I was a monster, that I killed Mom.”

 

“Fuck, Sammy, you know that’s not true.”

 

“Yeah, of course, I know. But I left anyway. I’ve been spending the nights at Amy’s, but her mom would kill me if she knew, so I've been sneaking in and out.”

 

“And you’re hiding here?”

 

“Only when I know Dad’s at work. Adam calls when Dad leaves the garage, and I go to the park or wherever.”

 

His heart broke for his little brother. “I should have been here, Sammy, I should have stopped him.”

 

“It’s not your fault he’s an asshole.”

 

“You know he is hurt, right? Mom—”

 

“—Dean, I love you but don’t defend him to me. I’m hurt too.”

 

The matter-of-fact way he said it broke Dean. He looked to the ground, “I’ll go talk to him. We’ll get this figured out before I leave again.”

 

“Yeah, whatever, just go.”

 

Dean gave him a long look and rumpled his hair as he pulled the covers back over his head. This wasn’t his Sam. Sam had been down in the dumps before, but never like this.

 

He dropped his bag off in his room and made his way across town to the shop.

 

Adam met him at the door to the garage with a huge grin and wrapped him in a hug. When they broke apart, Dean asked, “How are things, Kiddo?”

 

“Well, I got a beauty of a car I'm putting the final touches on, so life can't be too bad, right?”

 

“I heard things were a little rough lately.”

 

“Sorta, but you'll fix Sam, won’t you?”

 

“It's not quite that simple, but I'll try to help him. Is Dad in the office?”

 

Adam nodded, and Dean gave him a pat on the shoulder as he walked to the back. When he turned the corner from the main part of the garage to the back, he saw his Dad through the window and knocked before walking through the door.

 

John smiled up and wrapped him in a hug, pounding on his back. “It’s good to see you, kid.” He leaned back, and John grabbed his upper arm and sized up the thickness. “Looks like your training was too easy on you though. When I got done, I had real muscles.”

 

The tone of his voice made it sound like a joke, but the words told Dean that he would never quite be as good as his old man. He painted on a smile anyway, “Well, we can’t all be you, Dad.”

 

His Dad’s smile grew even wider, and he nodded, “I suppose you’re right, Son. Take a seat, but I can only talk for a minute, I’ve got work to catch up on. How long are you here for?”

 

“They decided to send me to specialty school, motor transport. I guess all those late nights at work paid off. School doesn’t start ‘til January, so they have me working in Kansas City ‘til then.”

 

“School is overrated. You’ll learn more on the ground like I did.”

 

Dean held back the grimace at the words. Even working on cars wasn’t enough to please John Winchester. “Right, I guess we’ll see. Anyway, I wanted to talk about Sammy.”

 

The smile on his dad’s face fell at that, and his voice became a growl. “What about him? You gonna bring him back home?”

 

“Dad, you know I want him home as much as you do, but he’s in a bad place right now. If you apologized, it might help him.

 

“Apologize?” he asked with a huff. “I ain’t got nothing to apologize for, kid. Your brother is a big boy now. I can’t help that he gets emotional from the truth.”

 

“He’s shook up about it, Dad. You don’t even have to mean it. It would make him feel better.”

 

“I’ll apologize when Hell freezes over, and I’m done talking about it. Tell your brother to stow his emotional crap and be there for dinner tonight. What are you making anyway?”

 

Dean stood and rubbed his eyes in frustration, but answered anyway, “I don’t know, burger sound good?”

 

“Fine. And son,” Dean stopped on the way out the door and turned his head back, “I’m glad your back.”

 

“Yeah, Dad, me too.” He managed a smile on the way out the door.

 

**November 19, 1939**

Lisa had a Thanksgiving Break from school, so she and Sam helped Dean move into the small, one-bedroom apartment in the city. It was only a few blocks from the recruiting center, and he could rent week-by-week.

 

Since he was only going to be there until January, he didn’t bring much, just clothes. Lisa insisted on taking him to the store to buy at least one pan in case he wanted to cook his food rather than spending every night at a pharmacy for dinner.

 

He tried picking things back up with Lisa the way they were, but he was having a hard time acting like everything was normal, and though he tried to keep Cas out of his head, he was a hard guy to forget.

 

Lisa was acting strange too. Dean finally sent Sam to grab lunch from the pizza place he saw down the road and sat her down on the old couch that came with the furnished apartment. “Lis, what’s up in your world?”

 

“I’ve decided to start dating again.” He grew up around girls that would keep things light and talk about nothing when asked that question, but it was one of the things he liked best about Lisa, she always was brutally honest.

 

“Dean, you aren’t upset, are you? I know we never had an end, but with you gone, it feels right to try with someone here.”

 

Dean looked at her with his brightest smile, “Of course, Lis. I’m happy as long as you’re happy.”

 

“You know I’ll always love you, right?”

 

“I will always love you too. I’ve considered seeing other people too.”

 

Lisa perked up at that, “Ooooh, anyone in particular?”

 

Cas’ face crossed his mind, and he smiled, “Not really. I guess I’ll see where I end up next.”

 

“I’m glad we can still be here for each other.” She leaned over far enough to lean against his shoulder, and he wrapped an arm around her.

 

“Me too.”

 

He pulled her into his shoulder until he heard pounding on the door. Sam stood outside, and instead of holding dinner for them, Sam held a golden puppy in his arms.

 

“No.”

 

Sam’s grin faltered for only a moment, and he pleaded, “Dean, it can live with me in Lawrence. And I can take in on runs with me and play games with it, and it can sleep with me and look after Adam and me when you’re not there.”

 

The last few words hit Dean hard. He was failing at protecting Sam, watching over his brothers. Sam had to get a dog because he couldn’t do his job.

 

Lisa joined them at the door and laughed at the ball of fur. It sniffed her hand when she went to pet it. “It is cute Dean.”

 

He would have relented when Sam said he wanted it for protection, but instead, he stuck on his unhappy face, the one that let Sam know he wasn’t upset. “You know Dad will have to approve of a dog living in his house.”

 

“I don’t care what Dad says,” Sam said it with confidence but looked to the ground at Dean’s raised eyebrows. “I mean, I’m sure Dad won’t care as long as I take care of him.”

 

Dean let out a defeated sigh and stood out of the doorway to let Sam and the mutt in. He was almost upset about a dog in his apartment, but it was the happiest Sam looked in a long time.

 

“I guess that means I am getting the food.” He walked to the door and opened it, smiling when his little brother mumbled out a ‘Thanks, Dean.'

 

The pizza took a while for the store to make, and by the time he got back to the apartment, the front room was feeling crowded. Joanna, the lady that took care of the building, was there with a couple of boys that were wrestling with the puppy.

 

“Joanna,” he said, “I promise the dog isn’t staying here, my brother just got it, and he’s taking it back with him tonight.”

 

“It’s okay, Dean,” she assured him. “Sam here was telling me how excited he is to take it home to meet his little brother.”

 

Dean smiled at that, “Yeah, Adam will love it. He had to work with my dad today, or he’d be here too.”

 

“On a Sunday? That's a pity.” She looked down to the boys playing, “I haven’t seen my kids this excited in a long time.”

 

Dean walked to the table and sat the pizza down, and Sam grabbed a slice without even grabbing a plate. “The boys are yours? What are their names?”

 

She pointed to the taller one with a long mop of broth hair like Sam, “That’s Michael. And that’s Asher,” she pointed to the little blond-haired boy.

 

“They look like great kids.” He took a slice of pizza and settled back on the couch next to Lisa.

 

“They are my pride and joy. I should get out of your hair, though” Joanna told him. “Boys, we should be going.”

 

She waited while the kids grumbled about having to leave the dog, and she told Dean to let her know if he needed anything.

 

When the door closed behind them, he let out a little sigh of relief at the quiet and grabbed another slice of pizza.

 

“Dean,” Lisa said, “She liked you.”

 

“What? No way. She had kids; she’s probably married. And, I’m not interested in her.”

 

“You’re not interested because she’s too old and has kids? I didn’t see a ring on her finger.”

 

Sam spoke up from the floor, “The kids are cool, Dean. I got along with them.”

 

“God, guys, I’m not interested, okay? Drop it.”

 

They did drop it, but the conversation stopped, and the room echoed with the sounds of them eating. “I need a radio for this place.”

 

Sam laughed, “What is with your obsession with music.”

 

“It’s not an obsession, okay, I just like it.”

 

“Weirdo.”

 

“You’re the weirdo.”

 

Lisa broke them up, “We could go pick up a radio before me and Sam head back.”

 

Sam jumped up, “Can we get a leash and collar for Bones, too?”

 

“Bones? Did you name that poor dog Bones?”

 

“Dean,” his brother rolled his eyes, “Bones is a good name.”

 

“Uh huh, sure. Whatever cranks your tire, Sammy.”

 

Sam found a little collar and matching leash for the dog and Dean bought a small Philco radio and the department store. By the time they made it back to the apartment, Bones had peed on the floor. “You’re cleaning that up, Sammy.”

 

“Yeah, yeah.”

 

They left Dean’s a while later, Sam driving Lisa back home. Dean gave them both hugs and told Sam to drive carefully.

 

He went back to the room and laid on the bed until he couldn’t take the silence. He turned on his new radio and jumped in the shower. He sang to the music until halfway through “I Get Along Without You Very Well” when Cas crossed his mind again. He thought about the strong arms that held him through the night, and the rough, chapped lips against his own. He stroked his growing erection until he painted the shower walls.

 

I was one thing to fuck a guy, but it was another thing to hold a man through the night, to kiss him like a girl, to want more out of the shadows of a dark park or empty hotel rooms. To want him in your apartment to make it less lonely

 

The song was right; he wasn’t getting along well without Cas.  

 

He woke up early the next morning. The military time he was programmed with in training didn’t go away during his time at home, and instead of trying to go back to sleep, he got dressed and took a run around a few city blocks.

 

The sunrise cast a lovely glow on the glass of the buildings he ran by, and the city stayed in quiet slumber, oblivious to Dean’s routine.

 

He took another quick shower before dressing up for his first day at the recruiting office. It wasn’t until he tried tying the tie that he remembered these were the same clothes he wore that night out in San Diego. And the last person to tie his tie was Cas.

 

He talked himself down from a hard-on as he walked to the office, afraid to show up for his first day with a stiffy. Lieutenant Elkins met him at the door and walked him inside. Dean met Rudy Moloney inside. He had curly, brunette hair and his uniform was untucked and too big on him.

 

“Nice to meet you,” Dean said as he stuck out his hand. Despite his appearance, Rudy had a firm grip.

 

There wasn’t much to do until someone showed up. They cleaned until they were bored and then they went next door to the Army and Navy offices. They ended up in a push-up competition that Dean almost won. Marines were tough, but the Navy Seal was a beast.

 

Only one person showed up in the office that day, a kid named Brian Wilcox. He looked closer to sixteen than eighteen, but he said he wanted to join the toughest part of the military. Dean did what he could to give all the information he had and told him what to expect in basic training.

 

He would hate to be the kid’s family and learn on Thanksgiving that he joined the Marines.

 

Rudy walked a few blocks with him when they left the office and warded off Dean’s concerns. “There is a war that’s starting. We are going to need as many men as we can get so when our asses are on the line, we have some back-up.”

 

It made sense when Rudy said it like that, but Dean couldn’t help thinking that the babyface kids he signed up should be one of the ones he was protecting, not one of the ones fighting with him.

 

**November 23, 1939**

 

Dean woke up early for a morning jog and shower. It wasn’t something he would have done before training, but he was starting to enjoy his runs. It gave him an opportunity to clear his mind, like a connection from his training to his new life.

 

He dressed in his simple khaki cotton shirt and service trousers before catching the 8 A.M. bus to Lawrence.

 

His dad sat at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee listening to the news on the radio. Dean nodded a hello a started up the stairs to wake up his brothers. “Dean, wait a minute. You have some mail here from California.”

 

He froze. Were the letters open? Did his dad find him out? Would he ever see his family again? He stumbled to the living room and grabbed the letters from the coffee table. Two, unopened envelopes.

 

Cas and his family didn't live in the same universe. The letters didn't belong in this world, this house. He hid the letters in his desk and snuck down to his brothers' rooms.

 

Bones cuddled with Sam in the darkness of the room, but yapped at Dean when he threw open the curtains and yelled, “Rise and shine, Sammy!”

 

Sam jerked his head up fast enough to get whiplash and Bones launched himself off the bed. “Alright, mutt,” he shook his leg to warn the puppy away. “Sam, call off your attack dog.”

 

“Dean?” he asked in a sleepy voice. “What are you doing here?”

 

“Happy Thanksgiving, little brother.”

 

“Ugh,” Sam covered his eyes with an arm to block out the light. “Do we have to?”

 

A sleepy-eyed Adam burst into the room. “What's goin’ on?”

 

“Is that my BB gun?” his old gun from his dad set in his brother’s hands. “What were you planning on doing with that?”

 

“Right, uh, well I just, uh…”

 

“Adam and I went shooting at the lake on Halloween,” Sam spoke up from the bed.

 

Dean grabbed the dog, depositing him on the bed next to Sam and took the gun. “Well, at least you guys cleaned it.”

 

“It was the only way I could get him out of bed.” Adam stared at Sam in annoyance.

 

He looked around the room. Dirty dishes were piled next to the bed and on the table. Clothes laid in piles on the floor. Sam's bad place must have got pretty bad this time. It usually took a while to get in out of the room when he went like this. “Yeah? What else did you do to get him out?”

 

“I had to beg him to go on a run with me. Do you know how much I hate running? I barely made it a block before I died.”

 

“You guys know I'm right here, right?” Sam called as he pushed the covers off himself and crawled from the bed.

 

“Right. Well, you two get dressed, and we can go to the store. I assume I'm cooking this year?”

 

Sam's mouth hung open, “We’re having Thanksgiving this year?”

 

“Yeah, why not?”

 

“We haven't had one since Mom.”

 

“So, it’s time. I'll meet you at the car in ten.” He walked out the door before his brothers could protest and Bones' nails clicked on the hardwood in the hall behind him.

 

He grabbed the keys off the coffee table in the living room, but his Dad stopped him, “Dean, you can’t take the car, I have to go to work.”

 

Not again. “Like hell you are. I came for family Thanksgiving, and that's what I'm having.”

 

His dad stared him down, trying to intimidate him and after a moment Dean looked to the ground. He couldn't force his father to stay. "We’ll drop you off at the garage, but I’m picking you up in time to eat.”

 

His dad stared for another minute before blinking. “Fine. But Adam is staying at the garage with me.”

 

Like hell Adam was working on his first Thanksgiving without his mom. “Dad, give the kid a break. He’s there every day.”

 

“Someone has to take you and Sam’s slack. This is supposed to be a family business.”

 

“We aren't leaving the family business Dad, but people need a break sometimes. Give him a day to actually be around family.”

 

The muscles in his Dad’s jaw twitched, but he nodded in the end.

 

It was a quiet ride to the garage with their dad driving while brooding, but once he got out at the Winchester and Sons garage, Dean slid behind the wheel.

 

Sam jumped up and reached for the radio controls before Dean swatted his hand away, “Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole.”

 

Sam rolled his eyes, and Adam asked from the back, “Don’t you mean piehole? You love pie way more than cake.”

 

“Right you are, little brother.” He smiled at Adam in the rear-view mirror. “Speaking of pie, we need to get stuff at the store for it.”

 

“What's up with your unhealthy obsession of pie?” Sam asked.

 

“Don't talk to me about unhealthy habits, shut in. Pie is the food of the Gods.”

 

Sam spent the rest of the trip looking out the window and didn’t talk in the store. They went through the aisles picking out everything they needed for dinner, and with a lack of fresh fruit, Dean and Adam got everything for a buttermilk pie. It wasn't as good as fresh berry, but it would still be delicious.

 

They spent all day preparing the food. Dean decided to cut the turkey in half and grill it, and he set his brothers to work on the stuffing, cranberry sauce, and the salad Sam always requested. Bones ran around their feet trying to eat up all the scraps, and Dean told Sam to rewash his hands every time he reached down to scratch between Bones’ ears. He turned on a special holiday program on the radio that seemed to perk Sam up.

 

When he pulled the golden pie out of the oven, he called the garage and told Dad he would go get him. “Don’t bother, Dean, I’m still working.”

 

“That doesn’t matter, Dad. I’m gonna go get you anyway.” Sam looked at him with doubt in his eyes, clearly understanding what their dad was saying. Dean walked as far as the cord let him and lowered his voice. “Look, I get that you’re busy, it’s hard running a business by yourself.”

 

He continued over the scoff on the phone. “Yeah, I know I don’t know, and I have no experience. I get it. But you have two kids at home that need their dad, so I am going to pick you up despite your workload because my brothers deserve a dad to be here for them. They need you.” Adam stopped stirring his pot and looked at him too. He let out a smile, telling them everything was fine.

 

“Dean, I can’t stop you from coming over here, and I can’t stop you from trying to make me leave, but I’m not coming home until the shit here is done. So I’m giving you an order to stay with your brothers and have a good night together. I’ll walk home.”

 

He wanted to fight, to make his dad come back, but he couldn’t. The business had to keep running, and someone had to be there to do it. He closed his eyes, rubbing the heel of his free hand into the sockets. “Right,” he finally muttered. “Fine. I’ll see you when you make it back.”  

 

“You’re a good boy, Dean.” It reminded Dean of the way Sam called Bones a good boy all day.

 

He walked to the kitchen and hung the phone back on the wall. “Good news guys,” he said painting on a happy face. “Looks like it’s just us tonight.”

 

Sam let out a string of curses under his breath, quiet enough that Dean couldn’t make out the words. Dean raised his eyebrow, and instead of stopping, Sam talked louder, “That son of a bitch can’t even make it home on a holiday.” Dean let him talk out his frustration.

 

Adam turned back to the pot on the stove and kept stirred. “You okay, Kid?” Dean laid his hand on Adam's shoulder.

 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanksgiving was more my Mom’s thing anyway.” Dean’s heart sunk. Adam's shoulders were hunched in disappointment.

 

Sam and Adam needed a mom, not a shitty excuse of a dad and a big brother failing at being there. He pulled back his shoulders and straightened his spine. “Well, the turkey is almost done. The sides are ready. The rolls are ready to come out of the oven in a minute, and then we can set down to dinner.”

 

If they needed a mom, Dean could do that.   

 

The rest of the evening went smoothly. Sam talked openly without his dad around, and they laughed when Dean made them all say what they were grateful for. Dean drove them out to the lake to shoot at the fence posts and taught them about shooting from different positions and distances. “If you are keeping my gun,” Dean told Adam, “Then you are going to learn how to hit a target from anywhere.” Adam’s face lit up at the proposition.

 

When they got back to the house, Dean gave them each a beer, and they played poker until it was long past dark. Since there were no more buses back to the city, he would catch the first bus back in the morning.

 

When Dean made them put away the cards and BBs they used as chips, they ended up back in Sam’s room. Bones lay on Sam’s chest, and Sam’s arms wrapped around him.

 

They sat in silence for a while, just enjoying being there until Sam spoke up, “I can’t wait to get out of here.”

 

“You’re gonna take the first bus out after you graduate and leave me, aren’t you?” Adam asked. He said it like a joke, but Sam’s eyes looked down to Bones anyway.

 

“Are you going to join up too, Sammy? You could quit school, and we could try to end up together.”

 

“Uh, no, Dean, I want to go to college after I graduate.

 

I’ll be a lawyer and help a bunch of people.”

 

“College? How the hell do you plan on paying for that, and why the fuck would you want to? It’s a waste of time?”

 

“They have scholarships, Dean. If I get good enough grades now, they’ll send me for free.”

 

“God, Sammy, you’re smart, but stuff like that doesn't happen to people like us kid.”

 

“If it doesn’t work,” Adam said, “he can have the money I got from my mom. I’m joining up like Dean did. I can live my life after the war.”

 

“Did you already ruin him, Dean?”

 

“Yeah, no way in hell. You don’t wanna use that money for school then use it to buy a house, business, something. You’re not giving it away, Adam.”

 

“I can’t do any of that in the Marines.”

 

“The Marines ain’t gonna be the rest of your life.”

 

Adam rolled his eyes, but let the conversation drop. They all laughed when Bones passed gas in his sleep on top of Sam. Adam and Dean got the door and offered Sam a good night before they closed the door behind them.

 

It was a good Thanksgiving, they were plenty enough family for each other.  

 

When he crawled into his bed, he looked at the letters. He wanted to rip them open, devour every word, and write a long, sweet letter in return. But this was Cas, and Cas didn’t belong here, in this house, with his brothers. He put the letters in his bag to take back to the apartment tomorrow.  

 

**December 16, 1939**

 

Dean met Sam, Adam, and Bones at the bus station near his apartment. “They let you take a dog on the bus?” Dean said with raised eyebrows.

 

Sam smiled, “Dad wouldn’t let him stay, so I convinced them.”

 

“He sure as hell isn’t shopping with us.”

 

Sam tapped his bag, “I brought him a blanket for your apartment. I’m sure he’ll pee on it if he needs to go.”

 

Dean shook his head and let the way back to the apartment. When Sam was sure Bones would be comfortable and settled in the living room, Dean took them to see the recruiting center even though it was closed. He told them about Rudy and Elkins and beating them at poker every time they played. He didn’t mention the kids, barely older than Sam, that walked through the doors to sign their lives away.

 

He walked them to the Macy's down the road for Christmas shopping. The last Christmas he had was before Sam was born. He remembered his mom had a little belly, but he insisted on getting a present for the baby. He figured since it would be his last Christmas at home for a long while, they might as well make the most of it.

 

None of them bothered to buy their dad anything, just as they knew they wouldn’t be able to drag him away from the garage. Sam and Adam decided they would ride the bus over to Dean’s on Christmas Eve and spent the entire holiday together.

 

When they met back at the front of the store, each clutching their bags so no one else could see inside, Dean suggested they go out for lunch. He took them to a hamburger joint on the way back to the apartment.

 

“Sammy, what did you get for Amy? Don’t tell me you got her a promise ring,” Dean joked. Sam blushed and looked down at his sandwich. “Oh, God, you did, didn’t you.”

 

“Nah,” Adam said, “I bet he didn’t get her anything. They barely talk anymore anyway.”

 

When it was clear Sam wouldn’t defend himself, Dean smiled at his littlest brother, “You are a wealth of information. When did this happen?”

 

“It was, what a week after you left?” He looked to Sam for agreeance, but Sam stared transfixed on his burger, blush deepening. “Sam had a date with Amy, and she said she was ready to go all the way, right, but when he got there, he started, and she told him she wasn’t ready. So he backed off, and they got food at the pharmacy, and everything was all good, right? No, because then she stopped talking to him and avoided him. But Sam was all cool with it though like he didn’t blame her or anything.

 

“But then, three or so weeks later when he and Dad fought, Sam left and went to her house ‘cause I guess he couldn’t think of any better options like staying home and ignoring Dad like I did. Anyway, she took pity on him, but her mom couldn’t know he was there, so he had to sneak in after her mom was asleep. But remember that she still wasn’t talking to him, and he had to sleep on the floor so Amy didn’t freak that she would try anything. So he did it every night for a week in a half until you came back and he felt safe enough to stay home, but they haven’t spoken since you came back. Not that they were talking when he was spending the night, but you know, now he has Bones to cuddle up with at night, and he definitely hates being away from that security blanket.”

 

Sam finally looked up, “It sounds pathetic when you say it like that.”

 

Dean looked Sam. “Why didn’t you tell me, Sammy. God, I shouldn’t have left you.”

 

“That’s why Dean. You left to protect me, protect the world, and that’s what you’ll do. I couldn’t have you leave that for me.”

 

“I would do anything for you. For both of you.”

 

“Yeah, well you shouldn’t. I hate that you think you have to save the world, but I have to let you do your own thing. Just like you should let me do my own thing.”

 

Dean raised an eyebrow, “This is about college again, isn’t it?”

 

Adam let out a chuckle, and Sam said, “Dean, it’s what I want out of life. I want to be a lawyer, get married, have a white-picket fence, herd of kids, and a dog.”

 

It was everything the kid didn’t have growing up, the life their parents had before their mom died. The type of life that was stolen from them. “So, what happens when that all goes up in flames?”

 

“I’m not Dad, Dean. Nothing is out to get us. The fire was an accident, that kind of thing doesn’t just happen again and again. I can have a normal life. So can you. So can Adam.”

 

“Leave me out of it,” Adam said. “You know what my plans are.”

 

“Yeah, we’ll talk about those later,” Dean warned. “Sam, life sucks, and then we die. The good life never lasts. The most any of us can hope for is to save a few people along the way.”

 

“Hey guys,” Adam rapped his knuckles on the table. “Keep your voices down, we’re getting weird looks.”

 

Dean snapped his head up. The elderly couple sitting next to them turned their heads away when they were caught staring. “Right, Sammy you know I just want you happy. I’ll let it go for now.”

 

“Thanks,” Sam spared him a smile.

 

They finished eating in silence and walked back to the apartment. Bones bounced around the room when they got back like he was happy they hadn't forgotten about him. Sam hooked on Bones’ leash and took him for a walk. “Check for my mail,” Dean yelled as Sam walked out the door.

 

Adam settled on the other end of the couch than Dean. “We’ve barely talked lately.”

 

“I thought talking was more Sam’s thing,” Dean sighed. “But I do miss hanging out. We used to spend a lot of time together.”

 

“You’re different. You seem happier.”

 

Dean looked down at his hand and picked the dirt out from under a fingernail. “I guess I’m doing something I love. Or at least I will be soon.”

 

“Yeah, but it’s more than that,” Adam turned to face him. “I’ve seen you working on cars, and that is something you love.”

 

Dean smiled, he did like working on cars. But the Marines felt like home, like the place he needed to be. He couldn’t be happy not doing anything when there was a war going on. And he wrote Cas back, send the letter from the train and a new update. The letters he got were so sincere, like something he would get from a girl left at home, and he couldn’t resist writing back. It was easier in his apartment where he felt like he was a Marine away from his family. “You know, I am doing good. I am great. It feels free here.”

 

Adam’s eyes darted away, “Free from us?”

 

“No,” Dean scooted closer to his little brother and put a hand on his knee. “I never want to be free of you or Sam. Hell, I’d even keep that dog around just because he keeps you both so happy.”

 

“Well, he is a good boy.”

 

Dean stood up, “I’m gonna go change clothes, you can turn on the radio.”

 

He didn’t know why Adam would think he wanted to be rid of them He hoped he hadn't totally destroyed his family by joining up. But he hadn't thought of his family when he signed. Not enough to worry if it would ruin them.

 

He came back out when the front door shut. There were more sounds than just Sam, and he opened his bedroom door to see Joanna and the boys, the latter of which were playing with the dog.

 

“Dean, is Castiel one of your Marine buddies from basic? Can we read the letter you got?” Sam waved an envelope by the door.

 

 _Cas wrote back?_ “No! Hi Joanna, boys. Sam, give me that letter!”

 

“What, this letter?” Sam smiled. “Adam, should we give him his letter?”

 

“I think it’s the same person that wrote the other letters. I think our big brother has a new friend. He definitely needs approval.”

 

Joanna moved to stand against the wall out of the way of the brothers, but Asher and Michael sat in the middle of the floor with Bones, blocking Dean from his brothers.

 

He had to get the letter before his brothers read it. The last letters were rather incriminating, talking about sleeping next to him all night and waking up with him in his arms. Dean was surprised by how little censoring went into Cas’ writing. Any letter from Cas had to stay away from his brothers, his two worlds could not collide like that.

 

Dean made a leap over Bones’ head, and he tackled Sam pinning him, but Sam had already passed the letter to Adam who ran for the kitchen pulling the envelope open. Dean ran across the couch cushions, but Bones excited by all the movement, jumped up on the couch, tripping him. Dean found his balance as Adam started reading, “Dear Dean, I was happy to see your letters. I know we’d promised to write, but I was beginning to think I—”

 

Dean snatched the letter from his hands and held it up too high for Adam or Sam to reach. “Sam, I appreciate you grabbing the mail, but this is mine. Joanna, I apologize for all the excitement, it's nice to see you and the boys again. If you will all excuse me for a moment, I am going to go put this away.”

 

Adam grumbled behind him as he walked to his room and shut the door behind him. That was close. Too close.

 

He breathed a sigh of relief that he wasn’t found out, and pulled the other letters out from under his pillow, stuffing them all under his mattress. They would be safe there.

 

He went back to the living room and played host for the night. Joanna and the boys didn’t stay long, but Sam and Adam stayed the night and caught the bus to Lawrence the next morning. At least they didn’t bring up the letter again.

 

When he returned from the bus station, he pulled the letters out and read them all, one-by-one. Cas’ course would end on the 22nd, in time for the class to be out for Christmas. He thought he would stay in San Diego, but hoped he would be sent to more training. There seemed to be no shortages of courses he could take. “I know how important communication is in the field,” he wrote, “I want to be ready for the orders I’ll get.”

 

He told Dean again how much he wanted to see him, hold him, and how he worried he’d misread the situation. It crossed the line that Dean had created in his mind, the one where Cas became more than a buddy. He was surprised how much he wanted that line to be crossed.  

 

With the day off, he went for a long run and came home to a long, refreshing shower.

 

**December 25, 1939**

 

He woke up with arms wrapped around his waist. He snuggled into the warmth and wrapped his arms around the thin frame. Cas. He leaned up for a kiss and got a sloppy lick over the side of his face. Too wet.

 

He opened his eyes to Bones in his arms who barked at him. “Sam! Get your dog out of my room!” He never had morning wood gone so fast.

 

Sam ran in, relief on his face, “Oh, thank God, there you are boy. Come on, let’s go for a walk.” The leash in his hands jangled, and Bones jumped out of bed to run for Sam.

 

He raised an eyebrow to his brother, “Keep an eye on that thing.”

 

“I'm sorry, Dean. I didn't think he’d come in here.”

 

“If you wait a minute, I’ll go run with you.”

 

“Since when do you run?”

 

Dean sighed at the skepticism, “Since I became a Marine.”

 

“Okay, okay. I'll wait for you out here.”

 

Sam closed the door behind him, and Dean laid back, pulling the covers over his face. He hated dogs, but Sam was happier with Bones. He couldn't begrudge his brother that.

 

He couldn't help the grunt that escaped his lips when he stood up. He stretched before he pulled on a sweater and sweatpants. Adam was still sleeping when he opened his door, and they crept out.

 

Dean turned left out of the apartment, “This is one of my favorite routes.”

 

“You usually go for a jog?”

 

“Every day since I moved here.”

 

“It’s weird, you always hated running.”

 

They paused when Bones sniffed out a place to pee. “Well, training got me started. But, I don’t know, it’s different here on my own. I thought it was the training and starting something new, but maybe being away from Dad and Lawrence lets me be more myself. I’m trying new things all the time, making new habits and friends. It’s like I’m actually an adult.”

 

Bones found a tree he liked and lifted a leg. “You try new things? I call bullshit.”

 

He laughed, “No, it’s true. Last week Rudy took me to a Scottish pub. I didn’t even know that was a thing. I ate haggis.”

 

“Isn’t that stuff made from sheep parts? That’s disgusting, Dean.”

 

Bones walked ahead pulling at the leash, and they started a light jog to keep up. “Eh, it wasn’t that bad. The point is, I did it.”

 

“So with all your new life stuff, how’s dating since Lisa?”

 

“You really like being in my personal business.”

 

“That’s not really an answer. What about Joanna.”

 

“Sam, Michael is almost as old as you. She could almost be my mother.”

 

“Sure, if she had you at ten.” Sam glanced over to see his eyes roll. “Fine. Any other cute girls you have your eye on?”

 

“No. Why is it you think I’m looking for a girl?”

 

“Why wouldn’t you be? Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?”

 

“No, Sam, I am supposed to serve this country and save all the sorry asses like you.” _Anything to take the topic away from dating._

 

“Right, you want to go fight in this fake war we’ve heard so much about. Kudos to you!”

 

Sam did have a point, they talked about it every day at the recruiting center. Except the _Graf Spee_ , the German battleship that sunk British freighters before it got its own pounding, Europe was all quiet on the war front. Hitler was even talking about peace treaties. It was a good plan to get people to focus on other things until he wanted to take somewhere else.

 

“It’ll start up eventually. Even if not in Europe, then Japan. Or Russia. Or even Italy.”

 

“Why do so many people want to take over the world?”

 

It was a rhetorical question, but it still gave him pause. His brother was always a deep thinker. “Bones is wearing out, let’s head back.”

 

Dean led them down a side block so they would come around to the other side of the apartment building. They waved to Joanna and the boys when they met in the hallway.

 

“Taking the boys to see their dad,” she told them. “That asshole still gets to see them for Christmas. It’s bullshit.”

 

He raised his eyes at the strong language, Joanna never talked like that. “Right, well good luck then.”

 

“Merry Christmas,” Sam called as they retreated down the hall.

 

Adam sat on the couch with a book and pencils, drawing on the open page in front of him. When they walked in the door, he put the book down, “Merry Christmas!”

 

“Merry Christmas, little brother.” It was strange seeing a Winchester so happy on Christmas. Growing up, when holidays without their mom was too much, Dad had them work. It was where John would be this morning. “What are you doing there?” he asked, pointing to the book.

 

“It’s nothing, I was just bored. What’s for breakfast?”

 

“I have some salted bacon. And we could make pancakes?”

 

“Yes!” both his brothers jumped to the kitchen.

 

“Why don’t you guys do that while I jump in the shower.” He felt sticky with sweat and needed to warm up from the frost outside.

 

“Dean, we don’t know how to cook. You always cooked for me,” Sam looked at the ground.

 

“Right, okay, give me a minute to change?” He turned the heater up as he walked to the room, jumping at how loudly the door closed behind him. How did his brothers survive without cooking in Lawrence? Dad would never cook for them.

 

He pulled on his khaki’s and walked back to the kitchen. Breakfast didn’t turn out too bad. Instead of cooking by himself, he instructed his brothers on how to prepare the bacon, mix the batter, and when to flip the pancakes.

 

They opened presents after breakfast. Sam and Adam both gave him small things so he could take it with him on the road: Sam gave him a little necklace on a leather chain, and Adam gave him a little journal that would fit in his front pocket. They tuned into Bing Crosby on the radio, and with the lack of a tree, they told stories for entertainment. Sam told the best stories, made up crazy monsters and put in everyone they knew. It was probably all the books he read giving him ideas.

 

A knock on the door sounded through the room. He wasn’t expecting anyone, and he froze when he saw who was on the other side of the door. “Hello, Dean.”

 

There actually was some truth to that one person taking your breath away. “Cas, what… how are you here?” He shut the door behind him and stepped into the hallway.

 

“My family is in Hawaii for the holiday, and I wouldn't have time to go and come back before my training at Quantico.” It was so good to see Cas’ smile.

 

“But you’re here, how are you here?”

 

“You live in the path between California and Virginia. I figured I could spend a few days here.” Cas’ smile faltered at Dean’s expression. “You don’t want me here, this was a mistake. I would have written, but the letter wouldn't have made it before I did.”

 

He took a breath and then another. This was Cas in front of him.

 

“I shouldn't have expected to be welcomed. Ash would never have done this, I’m sorry, Dean. I’ll be on my way.”

 

He reached out, “Cas, wait, no. I want you here. You just took me by surprise is all. Uh…” Shit, his brothers were inside the apartment. Cas would meet his brothers. His brothers would meet Cas. That should not be allowed in this universe.

 

“Give me one second to explain this.” He checked down the hall for anyone outside their apartment before moving his hand down Cas’ arm. “Stay right here, Angel. I'll be right back.”

 

He reached a hand behind to open the door and turned to walk in the apartment. “Who was that?” Sam asked from the couch.

 

“Well, uh, one of my buddies finished up his first round of training, and he’s on his way to more. He was passing through and wanted to say hello.”

 

“A friend from basic? Can I meet him?” Sam's eyes widened in excitement, and he jumped off the couch.

 

“Yeah, sure thing, let me grab him. You sure you're both okay with him stopping by?”

 

At both his brothers’ nod he turned to open the door. Cas looked nervous and twiddled his thumbs together. “Sam, Adam, this is Cas. Cas, these are my brothers.”

 

“Dean talks a lot about you both,” Cas said with a small smile, eyes glancing up.

 

“Cas? As in Castiel? “Sam asked. “The one from the letter?”

 

“You only got one of my letters?” His brow furrowed when he asked Dean.

 

“No, there was just one that Sam found.”

 

“I apologize, Dean, I didn't realize your brothers would read your mail.”

 

Both Sam and Adam pouted, “He took it before we could open it.”

 

“You shouldn't snoop around in my stuff.”

 

“You asked me to get the mail for you,” Sam fought back.

 

“You didn’t have to be a bitch and try to read it.”

 

“You didn’t have to be a jerk and take it away from me.”

 

“Okay, okay,” Adam stepped between them. “You’re freaking him out.”

 

Cas did look freaked out. He stood in the still open doorway looking like he was ready to make a run.

 

“Sorry,” both he and Sam volunteered.

 

“Cas, buddy, why don't you go put your bag down in the room, we can start on dinner.”

 

“Do we have to have a big meal?” Sam whined. “Can't we have salad? Breakfast was huge too.”

 

Dean glared at him to shut him up. “It’s Christmas, Sam.” His voice came out more level and cold than he intended, but he went to show Cas the room.

 

Once Dean shut the door behind them, he gave himself a minute to look at Cas.  Just one minute, because any more and he would do things he shouldn't do with his brothers around. The guy looked great. It had been almost two months since he looked in the squinty blue eyes and felt the muscled arms. “Fuck, I missed you.”

 

Cas gave him a small smile as he closed the distance between them, blocking Dean against the door with his arms, “I missed you too, Dean.”

 

Cas moved closer, leaning in, and it was everything he’d wanted since they said goodbye. Cas was here, back with him, but his brothers were right outside the room. He hung his head and put a hand on Cas’ chest.

 

“Oh, um…” Cas put his arms down and stepped back, retreating into himself, “My apologies, Dean. I won't do that again.”

 

“No, it's just, my brothers.” He wasn't good using words to explain himself, but Cas nodded anyway. Cas always understood him.

 

“We exist in separate spheres, your family and me. You have not worked the balance out yet.”

 

“Yeah, exactly. How do you do that?”

 

“Dean, I grew up in the Navy. This was always my life.”

 

“No, I meant how do you get me so easily?”

 

“I listen to you. And right now, I hear your brothers in the other room talking about us.”

 

Right, his brothers. He turned and opened the door. Both his brothers stared back. “Who's hungry?”

 

He did have every intention of cooking a big meal centering around the chicken chilling in the icebox, so he could at least give Adam a Christmas dinner like he was used to. However, when it came time to cook everyone wanted hamburgers. Except for Sam. The weirdo made a salad. Dean let him as a Christmas gift.

 

After dinner, Dean made Sam walk Bones again while Adam showed Cas his sketch book, the one he hadn't even let his brothers see. When Sam and the dog returned, Sam continued assaulting Cas with questions, one after another about his training, his family, his view on religion.

 

Bones moved from Sam’s feet to Cas’, then onto Cas’s lap where he curled into a ball and fell asleep. Dean wondered how nice it would be to follow Bones’ example and curl up in Cas’ lap too.

 

Dean stood up when he felt himself get hard at the thought. “I'm going to bed. You kiddos have to be on the bus in the morning.”

 

Adam and Sam both argued, but Cas yawned too. “I am also feeling tired. It was a long ride on the train to get here.”

 

He moved Bones off his lap because of course, Cas loved dogs and Bones loved him back.

 

They walked together to the door without thinking, but Adam looked up, “It’s my turn to sleep in the bed with you, right, Dean?”

 

 _Shit_. “Nope, it’s Cas’ turn...” Both his brothers looked up in confusion. “He just got here on a train guys. He needs a good night's rest.”

 

Adam opened his mouth like he was ready to protest, but Dean shook his head. “Look, Cas slept in a tent with me every night for almost a month. And you two, I love you, but you kick me all night, and I end up cuddling with a dog when I wake up. Cas is sleeping in my bed tonight. Have fun with the couches.”

 

He turned and walked into the room, and waited to close the door until Cas crossed the threshold as well.

 

He pulled off his clothes, stripping to his boxers and crawled into bed while Cas did the same beside him.

 

“Your brothers are good kids.”

 

“I told you they were.” He scooted closer to Cas. “I missed you.”

 

“I missed you too.” Cas stared at him, willing him to make a move. When Dean just watched him, he asked, “Can I give you your Christmas present now?”

 

Dean glanced at the floor, “Shit, Cas, you got me something? I’m sorry, buddy, I didn’t—”

 

Cas grabbed his’ waist, pulling him close, and locked their lips. Cas’ lips were softer this time. Their kiss was more delicate too, they started slow and spent time mapping out each other’s mouths. It was the breath of fresh air he had been waiting for, the air that filled out his missing pieces. He glanced back at the door behind him. Sam and Adam were out there.

 

“I’m sorry,” Cas’ breath tickled the hair around his ear. “I just really needed that.”

 

Dean let out a sigh, “I did too, buddy. But my brothers are still next door.” Cas’ eyes looked down to the ground, and Dean reached a hand to his chin and gave Cas a soft peck on the lips. “Tomorrow, buddy. Tomorrow we’ll have all day.”

 

They jumped apart at the scratching on the door. “Bones, come here boy!” Sam’s voice rang from the other side of the door. Cas’ eyes grew big, and he smiled at Dean.

 

“No. That dog is not sleeping on my bed again.”

 

“That is the cutest dog I have ever seen,” Cas whined. “I’d let him sleep on my other side, he wouldn’t be next to you at all.”

 

“No, Cas, let him sleep with Sam.” Cas just continued his dopey smile and puppy-dog eyes. Dean wouldn’t let his resolve crack. But the seconds ticked down, and Bones kept scratching. When Cas’ whimper matched the dog’s, Dean looked to the ground. “Fine. He better not touch me.”

 

He didn’t have to look up to see the excitement in Cas. He felt it in the kiss on the top of his forehead and the way the wood floor under his feet bounced with footsteps.

 

They slept apart from each other with the door open and Dean woke up cuddling the dog between them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos, bookmarks, and comments keep me prioritizing writing over school work. I'm not sure if that is a good thing, but if you want more, faster, do one of the above. Also, if you subscribe, you can see when I post my next chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> So, quick back story, I am a history student currently working on my thesis about Gay and Lesbian GI's in WWII and the following Lavender Scare. This work of fiction is a counterpart to my research, working to find where my research needs more support. I don't have a beta, so all comments, on research, grammar, suggestions, etc. are more than welcome. 
> 
> If there is anything you would like me to clarify on (research wise) or say what I am mentioning, let me know! I am working on a terms/what things mean sheet and also my bibliography is 25 pages long (over 250 sources), so it's a lot to process through. I would love to answer any questions or clarify anything!
> 
> I am just posting first draft chapters as I write them, so enjoy!
> 
> As I edited chapters and moved them around, it deleted comments and I am so sorry! Keep commenting and I will be sure to answer!


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